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la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

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symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 

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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
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illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

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5 

6 

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TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR, 


AND 


CONCERNING  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  JUSTICE  BETWEEN 
THE  LABORERS  AND  THE  CAPITALISTS. 


BY 


J.   N.   LARNED. 


NEW  YORK: 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY, 

640    AND    551    BROADWAY. 
1876. 


204681 


Entxked,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  tho  year  1876, 

By   D.   APPLETON  &  CO., 

Id  the  Oflacc  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


T 


INTHODUCTORY. 


KoTiiiNG  ambitious  has  been  attempted  in  tliis 
little  book.  The  writer  has  not  undertaken  to 
construct  a  social  theory,  nor  to  solve  the  grave 
problems  which  are  involved  in  the  relations  ex- 
isting between  labor  and  capital,  by  any  copy- 
righted or  patented  formula  whatsoever.  lie  has 
simply  tried  to  investigate — for  his  own  satisfac- 
tion in  the  first  instance — the  conditions  under 
which  the  work  of  the  world  is  done,  and  to  do  so 
with  impartiality  of  feeling,  as  between  the  classes 
that  contribute  to  it ;  to  ascertain  how  far  such 
conditions  are  conventional  or  arbitrary  and  how 
far  they  are  naturally  fixed ;  to  discover,  conse- 
quently, what  readjustments  appear  practicable, 
and  to  learn,  at  the  same  time,  what  principles  of 
justice  are  underlying  the  whole  matter.  lie  has 
aimed  at  nothing  more,  in  a  word,  than  to  find 
the  direction  in  which  one  may  hopefully  look 
for  some  more  harmonious  and  more  satisfac- 
tory conjunction  of  capital  with  labor  than  pre- 
vails in  our  present  social  state,  by  finding  in  what 
direction  the  rules  of  ethics  and  the  laws  of  politi- 


IXTEODUCTORY. 


cal  economy  tend  together.  That  there  must  ho 
such  a  coincidence  between  what  is  just  and  what 
is  practicable  —  between  material  conditions  and 
moral  principles,  in  the  evolution  of  society — he 
is  persuaded  iirmly.  If  he  has  gained  even  a  dim 
discernment  of  it,  he  has  done  all  that  he  expected 
to  do.  Time  alone  can  bring  about  the  full  dis- 
covery. 

In  submitting  the  meagre  results  of  an  earnest 
study  of  the  subject,  he  has  endeavored  to  present 
them  as  briefly  and  compactly  as  possible,  only 
hoping  to  suggest  to  some  other  minds  a  mode  of 
thought  which  they  may  be  willing  to  pursue, 
lie  has  also  endeavored  to  present  the  argument 
of  his  view  w'ith  fairness,  and  has  adopted  for  that 
purpose — though  with  imjierfect  skill — the  con- 
versational form,  in  which  both  modifying  and 
opposing  considerations  can  be  brought  into  a  dis- 
cussion most  easily.  This  method  of  treating  the 
subject  has  sometimes  induced — in  the  opening 
chapters  especially — an  extremeness  of  statement 
on  one  side,  which  the  counter-statement  is  trusted 
to  correct.  Taken  alone,  there  are  some  state- 
ments of  that  kind,  perhaps,  which  the  writer 
would  not  wish  to  have  accepted  as  sound  teach- 
ing. If  his  view^  of  the  subject  is  considered  at 
all,  he  would  ask  to  have  it  considered  as  a  whole. 

J.  N.  L. 

Buffalo,  May,  1876. 


^    \\ 


COJ^TEIS^TS. 


FIRST  EVENING. 


ABOUT   THE  POWER  OF   CAPITAL. 

A  Vision  of  Judgment.— The  Evolution  of  Justice  in  Human 
History.— The  Nature  and  Functions  of  Capital.— Its  In- 
herently Oppressive  Powers.— Tlie  Theoretic  Situation  of 
Hired  Labor.— Human  Necessities  against  Human  De- 
sires.—The  Relations  of  Political  Economy  to  the  Social 
Problem         .... 


PAOI 


SECOND  EVENING. 


ABOUT   THE  KIGHTS   OP   CAPITAL. 

Might  and  Right  in  Society.- What  morally  belongs  to  Supe- 
rior Endowments  and  Advantages.— Tlie  Point  of  Social 
E(iuilibrium.— Some  Study  of  the  Modes  in  which  Wealth 
is  acquired.— The  Judge's  Doctrine  of  Morals  and  his 
Doctrine  of  Justice         ... 


84     V  ^^ 


6 


CONTENTS. 


TIIIIID  EVEXIXG. 


ABOUT  THE   COMPKTITiON   OF   FACULTIES   AMONO   MEN. 


PAOa 


The  Conipiirativo  Quality  of  "  Business  "  Fiiculties  and  the 
^      Excessive  Premium  put  upon  them. — The  Judge's  Co- 
operative  Theory. — Trades-Unions  and  Lal)or-Strikcs. — 
-     The  Preaching  and  Teachhig  that  need  to  go  together     .     69 


FOURTH  EVEXIXG. 


ABOUT   THE   JUST   CLAIMS   OF   LABOR. 


The  Increase  of  Production  within  a  Century  past.  —  The 
Judge's  Estimates, — Machine  Labor  and  its  Results. — 
The  Working-man's  Measure  of  Gain. — Wasteful  Con- 
sumption.— What  it  is  and  what  Kind  of  Waste  can  be 
socially  restrained.  —  The  Sources  of  Increase  to  the 
Capital  Fund  and  of  Increased  Dividends  to  Labor 


98 


t 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 

ABOUT   TUE   WAYS   AND   MEANS   OF   JUSTICE. 

The  "  Wages-Fund  "  and  the  Wages  System. — The  Common 
"Compensation  Fund"  which  may  be  substituted  in 
Political  Economy.  —  Effects  of  Partnership  between 
Labor  and  Capital. — Its  Practical  Beginnings  and  its 
Ultimate  Consequences. — Loanable  Capital  and  Public 
Debts. — The  Judge's  Xew  Party. — Malthus  and  the  Far 
Future 131 


LJ 


TALKS  ABOUT   LABOR. 


FIIIST  EYENIXG. 


ABOUT   THE   POWER   OF   CAPITAL. 

A  Vision  of  Judgment.— The  Evolution  of  Justice  in  Human  His- 
tory.— Nature  and  Functions  of  Capital.  —  Its  Inherently 
Oppressive  Powers.— The  Theoretic  Situation  of  Ilired  La- 
bor.—Human  Necessities  against  Human  Desires,— The  Re- 
lations of  Tolitical  Economy  to  the  Social  Problem. 

The  judge  (who  is  not  a  judge,  by  the  way,  but 
only  called  so  in  familiar  8i)eech  by  some  of  us  who 
should  like  to  see  him  on  the  bench)  had  lately 
become  my  neighbor,  living  a  few  doors  distant 
on  the  same  street.  I  knew  that  his  home  was 
desolate  and  had  lost  its  charm  for  him,  because 
the  shadow  of  death  which  is  darker  than  any 
other  had  fallen  on  it  not  many  months  before. 
So  I  proposed  to  him  that  he  should  drop  in  upon 
me,  for  an  evening  smoke  and  an  hour  or  two  of 
quiet  talk,  just  as  frequently  as  he  might  afford, 
without  keeping  any  account  between  us  of  visits 
given  or  returned,     lie  accepted  the  invitation 


8 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIi. 


\\\ 


frankly,  and  came  often  (luring  tlie  winter  to  n»y 
little  study — as  we  style,  with  some  com])lacenoy, 
the  modest  chamber  of  our  cottage  in  which  I 
smoke  and  read  during  idle  hours  at  home. 

It  happened  rather  fortunately,  I  think,  that 
on  the  night  when  the  judge  came  first  I  sat 
with  a  newspaper  in  my  lumd,  and  had  been  read- 
ing in  it  the  account  of  a  certain  wide-spread 
"  strike"  among  the  workmen  of  some  important 
trade  in  the  Eastern  States.  This  led  us  into  talk 
upon  a  subject  which  I  found  had  interested  him 
much,  and  on  which  he  had  been  pondering,  in 
his  characteristic  way,  with  searching  earnest- 
ness. 

I  had  wheeled  an  easy-chair  for  him  to  the 
front  of  the  fire,  which  burned  cheerfully  in  the 
grate  ;  we  had  settled  ourselves  comfortably,  with 
full  pipes,  and  surrounded  ourselves  satisfactorily 
with  that  atmosphere  of  fragrant  smoke  in  which 
ideas  float  more  lightly  than  they  do  in  common 
air.  My  wife,  who  likes  the  pleasant  little  room, 
for  all  its  smokiness — and  none  the  less,  perhaps, 
because  of  that — sat  opposite,  half  busy  with  some 
bit  of  foolish  sewing,  as  women  like  to  be  in  their 
leisure  times,  while  my  elder  daughter  Kate,  in 
the  sitting-room  just  beyond,  was  entertaining  a 
young  gentleman  named  John,  whose  frequent 
visits,  I  began  to  see,  had  an  object  in  them  which 
I  could  not  altogether  disapprove. 


FIRST  EVEXIXa. 


\\ 


We  had  slsirmirtlied  for  a  while  in  the  rc<5i()n 
of  siiiall-tiilk,  as  people  do  until  they  have  uncov- 
ered, on  one  t^ide  or  the  other,  some  «jjround  on 
which  they  may  enga<jjc  m  rational  conversation, 
and  at  last,  in  a  casual  way,  I  made  allusion  to  the 
matter  of  which  I  had  been  reading,  and  remarked 
that,  even  in  this  country  of  fewer  hands  than 
acres,  the  labor  question,  as  it  is  called,  or  the 
question  between  capital  and  labor,  is  becoming  a 
very  serious  (»ne. 

"  I  think,"  replied  the  judge,  "  that  it  has  be- 
come already  tJie  question  above  all  other  ques- 
tions in  social  inq)ortance,  and  that  we  have  not 
another  problem  in  the  world  to-day  that  is  ])ress- 
ing  upon  us  so  sternly  for  an  ecpii table  solution 
as  that  one  which  is  involved  in  the  per])etual 
conteul:ion  between  capitalists  and  laborers." 

I  was  surprised  at  the  emphasis  and  earnest- 
ness with  which  lie  spoke  on  the  subject,  and, 
while  I  admitted  the  importance  of  this  labor 
question,  I  doubted  whether  it  could  be  held  to 
take  rank  above  all  other  questions,  when  we  con- 
sider the  many  issues  tluit  remain  in  controversy 
among  men,  affecting  their  social  state,  both  in 
morals  and  in  government. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  this  labor  question  of  to- 
day succeeds  the  slavery  question  of  yestertlay, 
inevitably,  by  the  nature  of  things.  Having  de- 
termined that  one  man  may  not  own  the  labor  of 


10 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIi. 


ill 


T- 


cV 


another  man,  how  can  we  help  going  on  to  inquire 
about  and  ascertain  the  just  terms  on  whicli  tlie 
labor  of  one  may  be  'used  by  another  ?  It  is 
plainly,  to  my  mind,  the  sequent  step — the  next 
proceeding  in  the  inquisition  of  human  rights, 
which  we  are  forced  to  enter  upon,  whether  will- 
ingly or  not.     Our  civilization,  as  we  call  it,  is, 

'  more  than  anything  else,  an  evolution  of  the  sen- 
timent of  justice  among  men,  and  almost  every 
other  fruit  of  civilization,  in  its  moral  aspect,  is 
incident  to  that  or  developed  out  of  it.  This  re- 
sults so  from  the  kneadinnj  and  mould in<?  of  men 
into  organic  social  masses — a  process  which  tends 
steadily  to  press  out  the  savage  egotism  or  sclfism 
which  saturates  the  isolated  human  being.     ]S^ow, 

•  that  sentiment  of  justice,  or  sensibility  to  injus- 
tice, in  society,  which  has  only  to-day  gathered 
enlightenment  enough  to  abhor  a  legal  system 
of  servitude  which  it  tolerated  yesterday,  cannot 
have  reached  yet  the  end  of  its  education  in  that 
direction,  but  rather  the  beginning  of  new  teach- 
ings that  are  larger  and  more  exact.  Just  as  surely 
as  it  has  recognized  the  hideous  oppression  of  law 
which  made  one  man  the  master  by  ownership  of 
another,  just  so  surely  it  is  going  to  take  cogni- 
zance now  of  the  oppression  of  those  circumstances 
in  the  social  state  which  give  to  one  an  overmas- 
tering power  over  his  fellow. 

"  This  movement  of  education  among  men  to 


'^^   , 


FIRST  E    ENING. 


11 


y% 


a  truer  apprehension  of  justice  and  right,  in  place 
of  conventional  notions  which  confuse  the  moral 
sense,  is  not  an  eccentric  one ;  it  follows  logical 
paths  to  its  several  ends,  and  can  be  traced  like 
the  construction  of  so  many  syllogisms  in  human 
history.  In  fact,  the  slow  judicial  action  of  society, 
sifting  out  rights  from  wrongs  by  clumsy  methods 
and  tardy  forms  of  procedure,  and  so  establishing 
equity  between  its  members,  is  almost  all  there  is 
of  history  that  is  worth  a  serious  studying.  My 
reading  of  the  chronicles  of  our  race  is  very  much 
to  me  as  though  I  stood  upon  the  threshold  and 
looked  into  some  great  judgment-hall,  wherein 
the  painful  formulation  of  an  unwritten  common 
law  of  justice  between  man  and  man  has  been  go- 
ing on,  since  human  history  began,  in  passionate 
litigation,  in  tedious  argument,  in  hesitating  but 
irrevocable  decisions.  This  solemn  court  of  high 
chancery  sits  always  ;  knows  no  adjournment ; 
never  suspends  nor  dismisses  a  cause.  Its  judges 
and  jury  we  cannot  see,  for  they  are  of  that 
ghostly  and  changeful  substance  which  has  its 
palpable  but  unseen  forms,  and  which  we  call 
'  public  opinion.'  But  the  suitors,  the  clients,  the 
witnesses,  the  advocates,  the  attorneys,  the  bailiffs 
— they  throng  the  court.  Whole  nations  fill  its 
wide  galleries  and  its  far-stretching  corridors  and 
aisles,  waiting  for  the  verdicts  which  come  so 
slowly  in.     It  is  a  merciless  and  an  awful  court ; 


^^ 


■ 


12 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR 


its  justice  long  delayed  and  very  stem.  Death 
and  terror  are  its  freq^uent  ministers ;  many  times 
its  instruments  have  been  pestilence  and  famine 
and  war,  insurrection,  revolution  and  massacre, 
the  dungeon,  the  scaffold  and  the  stake.  It  has 
issued  its  writs  in  blood,  and  executed  them  with 
fire  and  sword.  It  wears  out  the  lives  of  its  lit- 
igants with  the  weariness  of  its  forms  and  the 
heartlcssiiess  (if  its  procedure.  Generations  die, 
and  son  succeeds  to  son  in  the  inheritance  of  every 
.rrong  that  is  pleaded  at  its  bar.  But  the  verdict 
of  justice  issues  always  at  last ;  indisputably  jus- 
tice ;"  inexorably  the  final  and  the  absolute  adju- 
dication of  right.  At  long  intervals,  of  many 
centuries  sometimes,  there  is  a  pause  and  a  stir  in 
the  august  chamber,  and  the  voices  of  the  criers 
proclaim  an  old  cause  ended,  the  trial  of  a  new 
cause  begun ;  the  old  cause  settled  forever  and 
ever,  and  sent  out  of  court  with  the  seal  of  an 
everlasting  judgment  set  upon  it ;  the  new  cause 
summoned  to  a  hearing  that  will  not  rest  until 
the  same  irrevocable  seal  has  been  stamped  upon 
the  decision  of  it.  So,  in  times  past,  we  have 
heard  the  suit  of  the  people  against  the  king,  the 
suit  of  the  commons  against  the  lords,  the  suit  of 
conscience  against  the  Church,  cried  into  court 
and  cried  out  of  court ;  and  so,  too,  of  late,  not 
least  though  last,  we  have  heard  the  procla- 
mation   of  justice    declared    in  the   long,   long 


<!.' 


FIRST  EVENING. 


13 


suit  of  tlie  slave  and  the  serf  against  their  mas- 
ters. 

"  Xow,  I  tcil  yon,  when  the  shave  went  ont  of 
court,  a  ti'inmphant  suitor,  the  lahorer  for  hire 
came  in  and  took  his  phxce ;  for  wlien  the  great 
chancery  court  of  civilization  pronounced  against 
the  possession  by  one  man  of  the  labor  of  another 
through  mastery,  or  force,  or  operation  of  law,  it 
bound  itself  to  go  fui'ther  in  the  matter  and  to  in- 
vestigate the  equity  of  the  tenns  under  which  one 
man,  in  any  other  way,  may  possess  the  fruits  of 
another's  labor ;  the  equity,  that  is,  of  the  division 
to  be  made  between  him  who  toils  and  him  mIio 
possesses  the  tools  and  the  materials  wdth  which 
and  on  which  that  toil  is- expended.  The  trial  of 
this  question  is  on.  Its  hearing  has  begun.  It 
cannot  be  arrested  l)y  any  injunction,  nor  by  any 
change  of  venue,  nor  by  any  stopping  of  the  ears 
nor  shutting  of  the  eyes.  It  will  go  on,  and  on, 
to  the  end,  whether  that  be  this  century  or  tlie 
next  one." 

The  judge  is  ordinarily  a  quiet  man  in  his 
talk.  I  never  had  heard  him  speak  in  so  fervid  a 
temper  and  so  oratorical  a  style  before.  I  could 
see  that  his  feelings  had  been  deej)ly  wrought  upon 
by  the  subject,  and.  I  became  curious  to  know  M'hat 
view  of  it  had  produced  this  effect  on  so  dispas- 
sionate a  mind. 

My  wife  had  dropped  her  sewing  in  her  lap, 


14 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


and  her  face  wore  sometliing  of  a  startled  look. 
"  You  have  frightened  me,  almost,"  said  she, 
"  with  your  vision  of  judgment ;  I  never  thought 
of  history  in  that  way  before.  There  is  an  awful 
solemnity  in  the  idea,  and  it  does  not  seem  to  be 
a  fanciful  one  at  all,  but  so  real  that  I  can  almost 
feel  myself  in  the  very  presence  of  the  inexorable 
court." 

"  I  have  the  same  impression,"  was  my  re- 
mark, "  and  the  picture  which  the  judge  has  drawn 
is,  without  any  doubt,  as  true  as  it  is  striking.  But 
I  do  not  exactly  see  that  the  suit  of  the  laborer 
for  a  just  partition  of  the  produ  •  ^^  labor  is  so 
immediately  sequent  to  that  of  the  slave  for  his 
freedom.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  two  questions 
involved  are  so  different,  both  in  origin  and  in 
principle,  that  the  solution  of  one  does  not  open 
the  way  very  much  to  a  solution  of  the  other. 
The  institution  of  slavery  is  a  purely  arbitrary  one, 
existing  by  virtue,  only,  of  a  determination  on  the 
part  of  one  body  of  men  to  oppress  another  body 
of  men,  because  they  have  the  power  to  do  so ; 
and  nothing,  therefore,  but  the  willingness  of  so- 
ciety is  needed  at  any  time  to  break  it  up.  But 
the  labor  system,  or  the  arrangement  of  the  condi- 
tions under  which  labor  for  hire  is  performed, 
seems  to  be  rooted  in  the  constitution  of  human 
society,  and  the  oppression  or  inequity  that  is  inci- 
dent to  it  appears  to  me  to  proceed  out  of  circum- 


FIEST  E  VEXING. 


It.. 


.(y 


stances  over  wliicli  society  has  little  control,  so  far 
as  we  are  yet  able  to  perceive.  I  confess  that  I 
cannot  understand  how  the  sentiment  of  justice, 
which  civilization  is  certainly  developing,  will  have 
power  to  interfere  with  the  operation  of  those  in- 
flexible laws,  proceeding  from  a  source  of  justice 
whose  legislation  we  cannot  comprehend,  which 
have  been  imposed  upon  mankind  and  wliich  gov- 
ern, with  a  force  stronger  than  human  law  can 
ever  have,  the  whole  organization  of  work  in  the 
world." 

"  Yes,  I  see,"  said  the  judge  ;  "your  perplexi- 
ty is  just  that  which  one  is  placed  in  who  exam- 
ines this  question  under  the  lights  only  which  our 
modern  science  of  political  economy  throws  upon 
it.  A  man  who  would  be  hopeful  for  humanity 
will  not  find  much  encouragement  there.  '  I  used 
to  be  troubled  very  greatly  until  I  began  to  see, 
as  I  see  clearly  now,  that  the  labor  question  be- 
longs but  partly,  not  wholly,  to  political  economy, 
and  that  more  is  assumed  for  that  science  than  any 
true  economist  would  claim,  when  we  remit  the 
question  wholly  to  it  for  determination,  as  we  are 
apt  to  think  that  we  must  do.  I  am  profcundl/ 
a  believer  in  political  economy ;  that  is  to  say,  I 
am  thoroughly,  in  the  main,  a  disciple  of  those 
doctrines,  political  and  social,  which  are  grounded 
upon  our  systematic  modern  analysis  of  the  crea- 
tion  and   distribution   of   wealth.     But   political 


,f^ 


1'^. 


TALKS  ABOUT  L  iBOR. 


eeonoiny  is,  or  ought  to  be,  strictly  what  may  be 
called  a  svstematic  science — a  formulation,  merely, 
of  facts  as  they  exist.  It  does  uot  embrace,  by 
■^ery  far,  even  in  the  branches  to  which  it  relates, 
the  whole  of  social  philosophy,  because  that  ex" 
tends  to  the  searching  out  of  causes  and  forces  be- 
hind and  superior  to  existing  conditions  and  pres- 
ent facts.  In  the  Hush  of  enthusiasm  produced 
by  the  revelations  that  it  has  made  to  society  with- 
in the  last  centur}',  there  is  a  tendency  now  to  ele- 
vate political  economy,  which  has  no  right  to  be 
anytliing  el»e  than  a  systematic,  scientiiic  formu- 
lation of  certain  existing  social  facts,  into  a  social 
philosophy,  and  tliat,  I  am  sure,  is  a  great  mistake. 
"  Ilowever,  this  is  not  exactly  to  the  point  of 
the  question  we  are  discussing.  Let  me  go  back 
to  my  proposition,  that  the  labor  question  belongs 
but  partly  to  political  economy,  and  cannot  be  re- 
mitted for  its  solution  altogether  to  the  laws  which 
that  science  has  determined.  It  belongs  in  that 
domain  a  little  more,  perhaps,  but  not  much  more, 
after  all,  than  did  the  slavery  question,  which,  on 
one  side  of  it,  was  a  stupendous  economical  ques- 
tion, and  dealt  with  as  such.  But  we  should  have 
waited  very  long  for  the  forces  which  the  political 
economist  is  studying  to  bring  about  a  solution  of 
it;  longer,  at  least,  than  the  civili/ed  communi- 
ties of  mankind  have  been  found  willing  to  wait. 
And  so,  in  like  manner,  I  believe,  the  simple  jus- 


FIRST  E  VEXING. 


17 


tice  of  liuman  society,  as  its  education  grows,  is 
going  to  give  every  laborer  his  due  share  of  what 
labor  produces — more  fairly  at  least  than  the  ma- 
jority have  it  now. 

"  You  do  not  see,  you  say,  that  this  labor  cpes- 
tion  is  immediately  sequent  to  the  question  of 
slavery,  and  you  view  it  as  not  belonging  in  the 
same  category  of  human  wrongs  or  inequities. 
But  I  am  sure,  if  you  consider  a  moment,  you  will 
concede  that  labor  for  hire,  under  the  conditions 
which  now  exist,  partakes,  or  may  partake,  very 
considerably,  of  the  nature  of  slavery." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  I  exclaimed,  "  that  is  surely  an 
exaggerated  statement.  There  is,  of  course,  an 
oppressive  inecpiality,  very  often,  in  the  relation- 
ship between  the  employer  and  the  employed,  but 
it  has  hardly  a  similitude  to  that  tenibly  degrad- 
ing subjugation  of  one  man  to  another  which 
slavery  involves." 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  rejoined  the  judge.  "  Let 
me  ask  you  to  give  a  definition  of  slavery." 

"  I  should  say,  in  brief,  that  it  is  the  forcible 
reduction  of  one  man  to  a  condition  in  which  he 
is  regarded  and  dealt  with  as  the  property  of  an- 
other." 

*^'  No ;  that  is  the  form,  only,  which  slavery 
wears  when  it  accepts  the  name  of  slavery ;  it  is 
not  the  essential  fact  in  it.  The  real  essence  of 
slavery,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  coercing  of  a  man 


1  • 


.^ 


'> 


'  'J 


18 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR 


to  yield  tlie  lalior  of  his  bands,  or  the  service  of 
his  faculties,  to  the  benefit  of  another  man,  with- 
out freedom  or  power  to  exact  an  equivalent  re- 
turn ;  because,  with  some  few  exceptions,  that  is 
all  which  renders  the  enslaving  of  one  man  by 
another  an  object  of  desire.  The  motive  of  slave- 
holding,  as  a  rule,  we  must  look  for  in  the  gain, 
or  the  supposed  gain,  that  is  to  be  got  by  it.  The 
essential  fact  of  slavery,  therefore,  is  this :  that 
it  places  one  man  in  possession  of  the  labor  of 
another  under  conditions  which  are  compulsory  on 
the  latter,  or  which  leave  him  no  freedom  or  pow- 
er to  exact  an  equal  return,  and  the  statement  of 
that  fact  seems  to  be  the  truest  definition  of 
slavery  that  can  be  given.     What  say  you? " 

"  I  cannot  dispute  your  definition." 

"  Well,  then,  we  may  fiiirly  say  that  any  con- 
dition in  which  a  man  is  constrained  to  give  the 
benefit  of  his  labor  to  another,  and  exercises  less 
than  equal  freedom  in  the  arrangement  of  the 
terms  of  compensation  upon  which  he  does  so, 
partakes  more  or  less  of  the  nature  of  slavery. 
Whatever  difference  there  is  must  be  of  degree 
rather  than  of  kind.     Is  not  that  true  ?  " 

"  We  will  concede  that  it  is — at  least  until  I 
have  seen  what  conclusions  it  leads  to." 

"  That  is  enough.  Now  let  us  see  how  far,  in 
our  present  state  of  society,  the  conditions  under 
which  capital  and  labor  operate  together  affect  the 


I 


I  i 


I 


FIRST  EVENING. 


19 


freedom  of  the  latter.  To  do  so,  we  must  start 
with  ideas  well  defiued.  We  must  acquire  a  clear 
notion  of  what  capital  is  and  what  its  functions 
are,  even  though  we  have  to  go  back  to  a  few 
elementary  statements,  in  order  to  set  it  with  dis- 
tinctness before  our  minds. 

"  Jn  the  primitive  state  of  mankind,  as  we  con- 
ceive it,  the  human  creature  performs  such  little 
labor  as  he  does  without  ireplp'Tc^eTit*?  to  help  his 
hands,  except  the  simplest  weapons  that  can  be 
used  for  killing,  in  the  chase,  and  he  directs  his 
labor  to  immediate  ends,  which  need  no  provision 
for  time  to  be  consumed  in  accomplishing  them. 
He  must  hunt  each  day  for  that  day's  food,  as  the 
brutes  do.  The  objects  of  his  exertion  are  all  ob- 
jects of  the  moment ;  the  means  with  which  he 
exerts  himself  are  just  those  with  which  Nature 
has  furnished  him,  ready  for  the  moment.  When 
tools  and  implements  begin  to  be  made,  either  to 
expedite  labor,  or  to  make  the  doing  of  things 
possible  which  are  not  possible  to  the  naked  hands ; 
or  when  labor  begins  to  be  applied  to  the  produc- 
ing of  results  which  cannot  be  attained  until  to- 
morrow, or  next  week,  or  next  month,  or  next 
year,  that  instant  civilization  begins,  and  that  in- 
stant labor  is  placed  under  new  conditions.  Now, 
these  new  conditions,  under  which  civilized  labor 
is  placed,  are  what  we  must  particularly  note  and 
remember,  for  they  are  conditions  on  which  it  bc- 


»  '    •  < 


1  >  >  • 


90 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


w 


Is 

V 


comes  as  depciidt'iit  as  tho  new-born  babe  is  de- 
pendent on  the  sustenance  wliicli  otliers  give  it. 

"  When  an  implement  is  made,  whether  axe, 
or  cart,  or  basket,  or  canoe,  or  rope,  or  wliatever  it 
may  be,  np  to  the  Litest  most  complicated  machine, 
the  man  who  makes  it  must  have  nl.;  inunediate 
wants,  of  food,  etc.,  in  some  way  supplied  to  him 
while  he  is  making  it,  either  from  a  store  of  his 
own,  or  from  a  store  provided  by  somebody  else, 
who  consents  to  supply  his  daily  needs  for  the 
sake  of  a  benelit  from  the  implement  when  it  is 
made.  In  the  same  way,  when  labor  is  applied  to 
the  producing  of  any  remote  or  lasting,  instead  of 
an  immediately  beneticial  result,  as  when  a  piece 
of  soil  is  cleared  and  broken  up  for  seed,  and 
corn  and  roots  are  planted ;  or  when  herds  and 
flocks  are  got  together  in  pastures,  for  fattening 
and  for  bj'eeding  their  increase ;  or  when  a  road  is 
made  ;  or  when  a  pack-peddler  or  a  caravan  or  a 
ship  is  sent  to  carry  things  to  some  other  place,  to 
exchange  for  other  things ; — when  any  kind  of 
work,  in  fact,  is  done,  wherein  the  object  of  exer- 
tion is  removed  by  some  interval  of  time  from  the 
act  of  exertion,  somebody  must  have  saved  or  accu- 
mulated, out  of  the  fruits  of  past  labor,  that  which 
will  supply  the  current  wants  of  those  whose  labor 
directs  itself  to  the  remote  result.  So,  too,  when 
a  division  of  labor  has  been  brought  about,  and 
several  men  take  each  a  distinct  and  special  task 


m 


FIRST  EVENIXa. 


%t 


for  the  benefit  of  all,  becoming  one  a  farmer,  an- 
otlier  a  sboemukor,  another  a  weaver  of  cloth,  an- 
other a  dresser  of  skins,  and  so  on,  there  must  be 
somewhere,  in  somebody's  hands,  a  store  from 
which  they  can  draw  while  the  exchanges  between, 
them  are  brought  about,  and  while  each  one  is 
partitioning  to  every  other  his  contril)ution  to  the 
total  wants  of  all.  Without  such  a  store  for  the 
interval  of  exchange,  our  division  of  labor,  which 
is  the  material  measure  of  civilization  more  than 
anything  else,  would  be  impossible. 

"  Now,  all  that,  whatever  it  may  be,  which  is 
so  accumulated  for  these  purposes,  and  so  used, 
is  capital.  The  nature  and  function  of  capital, 
therefore,  we  can  best  define  by  saying  that  it  is 
everything,  derived  and  accumulated  from  past 
labor,  which  enables  present  labor  to  be  employed 
in  any  such  way  that  the  beneficial  results  from  it 
have  to  be  waited  for. 

"  All  this  may  seem  trite,  but  we  need  to  set  it 
out  freshly  and  distinctly  before  us  in  the  discus- 
sion we  have  engaged  in,  because  it  defines  the 
relationship  between  capital  and  labor.  It  brings 
ns  face  to  face  with  one  tremendous  fact:  that 
every  hind  of  lahor  which  does  not  immediatehj 
froduce  for  the  man  who  performs  it  tJie  imme- 
cliate  satisfaction  of  an  immediate  want  is  abso- 
lutely dependent  upon  capital.  Now,  put  along- 
side of  that  a  second  grim  fact,  which  no  one  will 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


dispute,  viz.:  that  this  complex  social  state  wJiich 
%oe  call  civilization  has  left  no  lahor  to  he  done  hy 
any  man  that  is  not  of  that  dcjiendent  Mnd^  or 
next  to  none.  Think  of  it !  It  cannot  be  realized 
in  an  instant.  AVe  have  to  pause  and  reflect  be- 
fore we  can  fairly  conceive  the  remoteness  with 
which  ahnost  every  object  for  wliich  we,  any  of 
ns,  exert  ourselves,  is  separated  nowadays  fro*-i 
the  exertion  that  we  make,  or  the  labor  that  wo 
perform,  to  attain  it,  no  matter  what  may  be  the 
particular  divisluii  of  human  labor  to  which  we 
have  assigned  ourselves.  We  do  something  for 
somebody  in  the  next  street,  who  does  something 
else  for  somebody  else  in  the  next  town,  Mdio  does 
something  else  for  somebody  else  in  another  State, 
who  does  something  else  for  somebody  else  in 
New  York,  or  in  Boston,  or  in  Chicago,  or  in  New 
Orleans,  or  in  London,  or  in  Paris,  or  in  Calcutta, 
who  does  something  else  for  somebody  else  on  an 
Illinois  farm,  who  grows  the  wheat  that  we  make 
our  bread  of,  or  on  a  South  Carolina  plantation,  who 
grows  the  cotton  that  is  in  our  shirts,  or  on  a  Texas 
pasture-range,  who  fattens  the  beef  that  we  con- 
sume, or  in  an  English  factory,  who  weaves  cloth 
for  our  coats,  or  in  a  Chinese  tea-garden,  who 
grows  the  herb  which  solaces  our  evening  repast. 
What  man  in  the  civilized  world  can  trace  the 
intricate,  devious,  infinitely  complicated  way  in 
which  the  particular  result  of  his  particular  labor 


U 


FfRST  KVI'LVrXG. 


23 


is  ravuled  into  a  tliousand  threads,  by  our  modern 
division  of  labor  and  the  wonderful  system  of 
modern  eoniniercial  exchange,  to  be  woven  in  and 
out  with  millions  ot'  other  threads,  raveled  and 
spun  in  the  same  way  from  the  work  of  innumer- 
able other  hands,  and  so  stretched  hither  and 
thither,  all  over  the  globe,  to  reach  the  ten  thou- 
sand separate  objects  of  want  and  desire  for  which 
he  labors  ^  No  man  can  track,  any  longer,  the 
work  which  he  sends  out  from  himself  to  a  hun- 
dredth part  of  the  results  which  it  brings  back  to 
hiuL  lie  cannot  any  longer,  if  he  would,  take 
things  at  first  hands  from  Nature,  by  the  immedi- 
ate process  of  direct  labor.  Civiiization  has  put 
everything  at  a  certain  remove,  and  capital,  on 
every  side  of  him,  holds  an  intermediate  agency.  , 
"  Here,  then,  entangled  helplessly  in  the  meshes 
of  the  vast  network  of  this  modern  organization 
of  labor  and  exchange,  stands  the  man  who  has 
hands  and  brain,  intelligence,  strength,  and  will 
to  work,  according  to  the  demand  of  Nature,  for 
what  he  needs,  but  who  stands  empty-handed — 
with  no  accumulation  of  things  hitherto  produced 
— with  no  capital.  What  can  he  do  ?  There  are 
no  wild  creatures  any  more  within  his  reach  that 
he  can  hunt  for  food,  or  whose  skins  he  can  ap- 
propriate for  clothing.  Thei-e  is  not  an  animal 
that  he  can  kill  which  is  not  the  property  of  some- 
body— stamped  with  the  right  of  possession  by  ac- 


>. 


R'ff  ' 

In 

1     ' 

11 

11 

I 


I' . 


I 


■  I 
.    1 


lit 


!     I 


24: 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOE. 


quircinent  or  accumulation.  There  is  not  a  field 
ill  which  he  can  dig  a  root,  or  pluck  an  ear  of  corn, 
or  leather  a  handful  of  fruit,  that  is  not  hedged 
with  tiie  same  right.  Tliere  is  nothing  within  his 
reach  to  which  he  can  apply  his  lab^^r,  to  make  it 
productiv^e  for  others  and  so  exchangeable — not  a 
scrap  of  raw  material,  whether  metal,  or  wood,  or 
stone,  or  even  clay — that  is  not  ticketed  and  la- 
beled '  Hands  off ! '  The  mark  of  appropriation, 
the  sign  and  seal  of  capital,  are  on  everything 
around  him.  Except  with  the  consent  of  the  sov- 
ereigns of  this  universal  domain,  if  he  so  much  as 
attempts  to  apply  his  hands  to  any  productive 
work,  he  is  a  trespasser  and  a  thief.  AVhat  can  he 
do  ?  ^Vhy,  nothing,  but  helplessly  cry  out  to  those 
who  hold  this  environment  of  capital  around  him  : 
'  Pray  let  me  work !  let  me  have  something  to  work 
with  and  work  upon  !  land  to  cultivate,  or  wood 
to  cut,  or  iron  to  forge,  or  clay  to  mould  and  burn ! 
Give  me  a  chance  to  produce  something  that  is  ex- 
changeable for  bread,  with  those  who  have  bread. 
Make  your  own  terms  with  me — the  best  terms 
that  you  can  make  with  me  and  with  my  fellows 
Avho,  like  me,  have  only  capacity  to  work  and  de- 
sire to  work,  and  who  are  utterly  without  the 
means  !  Take  every  advantage  that  you  will  of 
the  desperate  pressure  of  our  necessities  !  Make  us 
bid  against  one  another,  until  we  bid  ourselves 
down  to  BO  small  a  share  of  the  products  of  our  la- 


I 


FIRST  EVEXIXG. 


25 


t 


& 


bor,  expended  upon  your  uiaterials,  with  your  ini- 
pleiueuts,  tliat  it  will  barely  keep  our  bodies  and 
our  souls  together;  but  let  us  work,  and  not 
starve ! '  ^ 

"  lu  God's  name,  my  dear  sir,  is  not  the  potent 
possibility  of  oppression  that  exists  here  somethin<^ 
terrible  I  And  when  we  liave  two  classes  of  men, 
with  the  possession  of  capital  on  one  side  and  tho 
necessity  to  labor  on  the  other,  does  not  the  rela- 
tionship between  them  partake  very  considerably 
of  the  nature  of  slavery  i  /- 

"Mind  you,  I  am  not  quarreling  with  this  state 
of  things,  nor  denouncing  it.  I  am  only  stating 
the  facts  about  it.  I  recoij-nize  it  as  beinix  an  in- 
evitable  incident  of  civilizatior^  up  to  the  point 
that  we  have  reached  ;  for,  without  having  placed 
ourselves  under  the  conditions  that  produce  it,  we 
could  never  have  risen  above  l)arl)arism.  But  I  do 
say  that  when  civilization  develops  so  frightful  a 
power  in  the  hands  of  one  part  of  mankind  over 
another  part,  it  is  the  business  of  civilization  to 
find  some  way  in  which  to  counteract,  or  modify, 
or  nullify  it,  and  it  cannot  have  any  other  business 
in  hand  that  is  half  so  imperative.'" 

The  judge  had  risen  restlessly  from  his  seat, 
during  the  latter  part  of  his  speech,  and  was  pac- 
ing the  room,  in  a  singular  state  of  excited  feeling. 
My  daughter  Kate  and  her  young  friend  had  stolen 
into  the  study,  attracted  from  their  own  topics  by 


2G 


TALKS  ABOUT  LAB  OB. 


M 


% 


1 1 


the  wai'iiitli  and  eloquence  of  ours^.  We  liad  all 
listened  intently  to  the  vehement  declamation  of 
the  jndij^e,  and,  ^vheii  he  ])aused,  there  was  a  mo- 
ment of  thon<j;litful  silence.  I  was  moved  a  <;'ood 
deal  by  what  he  had  said,  hnt  not  altogether  con- 
vinced of  the  soundness  of  his  view. 

"  Your  statement,"  said  I,  after  a  little  reflec- 
tion, "  vour  statement  of  the  situation  as  between 
labor  and  capital  seems  to  me  to  be  a  theoretical 
and  an  extreme  one.  You  rej)resent  the  depend- 
ence of  labor  upon  capital,  but  you  do  not  take 
into  account  the  reciprocal  dependence  of  capital 
upon  labor,  which  is  just  as  rigorous  a  fact,  and 
which,  if  it  be  not  quite  ecpial  to  the  other,  goes 
certainly  very  far  toward  neutralizing  it.  The 
man  of  ca])ital  must  have  the  help  of  the  man  of 
labor  to  make  his  capital  productive  for  him,  just 
as  much  as  the  lal)orer  must  have  the  help  of  the 
capitalist  to  put  him  in  the  vray  of  performing 
productive  work.  The  dependence  is  mutual, 
aiul  there  is  a  pressure  of  necessity  on  each  side  to 
compel  them  to  terms  with  one  another,  in  the 
matter  of  dividing  whatever  maybe  the  joint  prod- 
uct from  what  they  severally  contribute.  You 
leave  this  important  fact  out  of  the  case,  and  pre- 
sent it  one-sidedly,  which  is  not  fair  nor  true  argu- 
ment." 

"  Oh,  no,"  cried  the  judge,  "  I  do  not  forget  the 
dependence  of  capital  upon  labor — for  its  gains  ; 


FIRST  EVEXIXa. 


27 


the  necessity  under  mIii'cIi  tliey  botli  <aet  together 
in  pnuhic'tion ;  the  self-interest  whicli  brings  one 
into  cooperation  with  the  otlier,  when  the  two 
exist  apart,  in  separate  hands.  I  do  not  forget, 
and  I  have  no  wish  to  put  out  of  sight  nor  to  l)e- 
little  the  facts  that  you  refer  to.  I  should  have 
eonie  to  them  in  a  moment. 

"  The  common  interest  which  associates  capi- 
tal and  labor  together  in  production  is  a  certain  ' 
fact,  but  we  must  take  care  to  analyze  it  and  see 
its  parts.  I  used  to  be  deceived  by  it,  and  trusted 
to  it  for  a  comfortable  settlement  of  this  whole 
matter  of  justice  to  lahor,  until  I  happened  one 
day  to  think  what  a  mighty  difference  there  is  be- 
tween capital  and  lal>or  in  the  abstract  and  the  ■  • 
capitalist  and  the  lab(^rer  in  the  concrete.  If  you 
place  capital  and  labor  together  in  the  same  hand 
— let  the  same  man,  that  is,  be  both  laborer  and 
capitalist  at  once — there  is  then  no  possible  issue 
between  them  ;  their  identitication  in  interest  and 
their  mutuality  of  dependence  are  complete  ;  and. 
this  is  their  natural  state  of  union — the  one  whidi 
we  theoretically  contemplate  whenever  we  prove 
to  ourselves  that  there  is  natural  justice  in  the  re- 
lationship between  them.  Ihit  put  them  ai)art — 
dissociate  them  so  far  as  their  personal  representa- 
tion is  concerned,  making  the  laborers  one  class 
and  the  capitalists  another  class ;  what  then  ^  You 
have  put  persons  in  the  place  of  things,  i.         and 


i!i 


i    i! 


28 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR 


the  situation  is  wholly  cliaiiged.  You  are  no 
longer   merely   dealing   with  the    inter-operative 

"^  functions  of  capital  and  laboi'  in  the  abstract,  but 
you  are  dealing  with  them  under  the  dominion  of 
concrete  human  motives  and  passions,  human  ne- 
cessities and  desires,  and  all  the  nice  balance  which 
existed  between  them  before  is  totally  destroyed  by 
interference.  The  man  of  wealth,  be  it  a  greater  or 
less  accunudation,  is  ordinarily  C(n'etous  of  more, 
and  so  feels  that  it  is  for  his  interest  to  employ 
Avhat  he  possesses  as  capital,  to  produce  an  in- 
crease,    lie  is  commonly  actuated  in  this  by  no 

•  innnediate  necessity,  but  by  a  desire,  or  by  i)ru- 
dential  fore-calculations  for  the  future.  3>ut  the 
man  without  wealth,  who  possesses  nothing  save 
the  ability  to  work — how  enormously  different  arc 
the  forces  that  act  upon  him!  There  are  no  alter- 
natives in  his  case  ;  no  region  of  choice  within 
which  he  is  free,  except  that  narrow  one  which  has 
death  on  one  side  of  it.  He  mvst  employ  his 
labor  productively  in  order  to  live.  His  interest 
in  the  matter  is  the  interest  which  a  man  lias  in 
the  preservation  of  his  life,  and  of  other  lives  that 
are  dear  to  him  and  dependent  on  him.  AYhen, 
therefore,  you  bring  these  two  together,  to  make 
terms  of  coj)artnersliip  with  one  another  in  the 
business  of  production,  you  have  love  of  gain  to 
urge  the  one  and  love  of  life  to  force  the  other. 
Behind  the  one  you  have  prudence,  avarice  and 


/ 


J 


t   , 


«   • 


FIRST  EVEXmG. 


29 


many  selfish  desires,  beliiiid  the  other  you  have*/'' 
hunger,  misery,  starvation,  death.  Ou  one  side 
you  ha\'e  a  powerful  human  motive  ;  on  the  other 
Hide  a  desperate  human  necessity.  Will  yuu  say 
that  the  two  contraeting  parties  stand  upon  an 
equal  footing  in  their  negotiation  ?  Will  you  ex-  f 
pect  to  keep  e(piity  in  the  middle  of  such  une(pial 
forces  as  these  i  AVill  you  trust  your  laws  of  politi- 
cal  economy  to  secure  justice  to  labor   in  such   a 


situation  as  this  'I  Ko,  sir.  It  will  not  do.  Tlioso 
arethe  tlieorists,  in  this  matter,  who  talk  of  cajntal 
and  lal)or  as  though  they  were  merely  dead  names 
of  things ;  as  though  they  were  nothing  more  tliaii 
tlie  'A'*'  and  tlie  'y'  of  a  simple  ecpiation;  as 
though  there  were  not  a  living,  breathing,  pal[)i- 
tating  humanity  re})resented  in  them,  whose  needs 
and  misfortunes  and  passions  complicate  the  prob- 
lem. I  am  not  the  theorist,  for  I  face  the  facts  as 
the  world  shows  them  to  me,  and  they  tell  me 
that  it  is  an  idle  dream  to  look  for  fair  dividends 
to  be  made  between  capital  and  labor  by  simple 
operation  of  the  mutual  interests  which  bring  them 
together." 

"J hit,  my  dear  judge,"  said  I,  "there  certainly 
is  an  extremeness  in  your  statements.  You  will 
not  claim  that  the  situation  you  have  described  is 
actually  and  commonly  the  situation  in  which  the 
laborer  makes  his  bargain  with  the  capitalist. 
How    often   does    starvation   really   occur,   even 


/ 


/ 


I 


ao 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


i 


u 


1     • 


\.  1 

J  ! 


•. »« 


I 


among  tlic  poorest  and  most  unfortunate  of  man- 
kind, and  how  often  does  it  appear  so  imminent 
to  any  laborer  that  his  fear  of  it  will  actually 
dictate  the  wages  to  which  he  submits  ?  You  must 
concede,  I  think,  that  the  situation  of  '  desperate 
necessity '  is  an  exceptional  and  not  the  common 
one,  and  that  when  it  does  occur,  to  any  large  ex- 
tent, it  is  produced  by  causes  of  general  misfor- 
tune or  calamity  which  have  disturbed  the  whole 
productive  organization  of  society." 

"  Yes,  but  why  is  this  so  I  It  is  because  here, 
as  in  man}  other  instances,  the  lieart  of  man  is 
more  generous  than  the  social  systems  he  has 
framed.  I  think  well  of  human  nature,  on  the 
whole,  and  I  believe  that  kindness  toward  a  fellow- 
being  is  more  in  accordance  with  our  nature  than 
cruelty ;  though  it  has  to  be  developed,  like  every 
other  moral  disposition  in  man,  l)y  intelligent  per- 
ceptions. That  is  the  ground  on  which  I  rest  my 
hope  for  humanity  in  the  very  matter  that  we  are 
speaking  of.  We  eke  out,  now,  a  tyrannical  and 
heartless  theoi-etic  economy  Avith  practical  charities 
and  generosities  that  make  it  tolerable.  The 
change  to  be  brought  about  is  this:  that  Ave  must 
reduce  the  generosity  to  a  system,  not  of  gener- 
osity, but  of  justice  and  right.  According  to  the 
theory  of  our  wages  system,  the  fortunate  part  of 
mankind  which  has  possessed  itself,  in  one  way 
and  another,  of  almost  all  the  instruments  and  ma- 


FIRST  ETEXIXG. 


31 


terials  and  adjuncts  of  productive  labor,  Las  a  right 
to  compel  the  other  part  to  perform  work  for  just 
that  least  and  lowest  share  of  the  products  of  labor 
which  the  competition  of  their  bodily  necessities 
will  force  them  to  accept ;  but  the  practice  of  the 
system  is  not  often  as  heartless  as  the  theory  of  it. 
It  seldom  happens  that  the  men  of  capital  drive 
the  hardest  and  sharpest  bargain  that  they  might 
with  tlie  men  of  labor.  It  seldom  happens  that 
their  cruel  power  is  exercised  to  the  terrible  ex- 
treme which  it  miui-ht  be  carried  to.  It  seldom 
haj^pens  that  the  vast  army  of  empty-handed  men 
and  women,  whose  bread  to-morrow  depend.-:  upon 
their  chance  to  work  to-day,  are  desperately  driven, 
to  bid  each  other  down  to  quite  such  fragments 
and  crumbs  of  subsistence  as  they  might  be,  if 
there  were  no  humanity  nor  generosity  to  leaven 
the  brutal  selfishness  of  the  theory  of  the  system 
to  which  they  are  subjected.  Capital  is  all  the 
time  giving  something  more  of  a  share  of  the  pro- 
duction which  it  controls  to  labor  than  it  might 
give,  in  somewhat  higher  wages  than  it  might 
pay;  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  broad,  grand  organi- 
zation of  what  we  call  philanthropy  and  benevo- 
lence is  overlaid  upon  the  system  of  our  social 
economy,  to  mitigate  its  harshness  and  heartless- 
ness.  Contrary  to  their  usual  wont,  men  pnictise 
in  this  matter  of  tlieir  res])oiisibiIities  toward  one 
another  better  than  their  maxims  i)rescribe,  and  I 


32 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


V 


feel  assured,  by  a  thousand  signs,  tliat  tlie  licart  of 
humanity  is  very  nearly  right  and  ripe  for  some- 
thing juster  and  fairer  than  the  old  institutions  of 
labor.  It  is  only  waiting  now  for  certain  strong 
habits  of  view  which  it  has  acquired  to  be  cor- 
rected by  truer  instincts  and  a  larger  enlighten- 
ment." 

"As  I  understand  you,  then,"  said  I,  "your 
view  is  that  ca])ital  holds  over  labor  an  o})pressive 
advantage,  which  is  not  used,  as  a  rule,  to  the  full 
extent,  but  which  it  asserts,  nevertheless,  with  too 
much  sanction  from  the  economical  philos()])hy  of 
our  day,  an  unlimited  right  to  use; 'and  your  de- 
mand is,  that  the  claim  of  right  to  ekercise  so  op- 
pressive a  power  shall  be  condenmed  and  vetoed 
by  the  just  judgment  of  society." 

"  That  is  it.  You  have  it  exactly.  And  now 
— ^but  here  have  I  talked  the  whole  evening  away," 
cried  the  judge,  looking  at  his  watch,  "  and  made 
you  all  dundj,  very  nearly,  with  my  uncivil  lectur- 
ing. I  am  ashamed  of  myself  ;  but  }  ou  threw  me 
on  a  subject  which  runs  away  with  me.  I  hope, 
ladies,  you  will  not  think  that  I  am  always  such  a 
rattle-tongued  egotist  as  1  have  been  to-night." 

And  so  he  went  on  with  many  laughiiig  apolo- 
gies until  my  wife  had  to  put  a  stop  to  them,  and 
compelled  him  to  understand  that  the  talk  of  the 
evening  had  interested  her  so  greatly  that  she 
should  be  impatient  for  a  continuation  of  it.    Nor 


FIRST  E  VEXING. 


33 


would  we  auj  of  us  let  him  go  until  ho  liad  prom- 
ised to  come  again,  on  the  morrow,  and  resume 
the  topic  where  it  had  been  left.  On  that  promise 
we  bade  him  good-night,  and,  with  hearts  that  had 
grown  much  warmer  toward  him  M'ithin  the  past 
hour  or  two,  we  saw  him  walk  slowly  to  his  lonely 
home. 


SECOND  EVENING. 


ABOUT   THE   KIGIITS   OF   CAl'lTAL. 

Might  and  Right  in  Socit'ty. — What  morally  Itclontrs  to  Siipoiior 
Knilowiuents  ami  Advantages. — The  Point  of  Soeial  Kiiuilib* 
riiini. — Some  Stndy  of  the  Modes  in  which  Wealth  is  anniiri'd. 
— The  Judge's  Doetriue  of  Morals  and  Lis  Doctrine  of 
Justice. 


Faithful  to  the  promise  he  had  made,  the 
jud<i:e  came  early  the  next  nio^ht,  and  found  lis  all 
waitin<^  for  him  in  the  little  room.  My  young 
friend  John,  whom  I  discovered  to  be  a  very  sen- 
sible fellow  indeed,  had  begged  the  privilege  of 
being  present  again.  He  was  much  taken  with 
the  judge's  talk,  although  the  conservatism  which 
is  commoidy  incident  to  his  time  of  life  held  him 
back,  with  more  resistance  than  I  could  make, 
from  the  acceptance  of  the  judge's  views.     I'he 

*  conservatism  of  young  men,  at  a  certain  stage  of 
experience,  by-the-way,  is  a  very  curious  thing; 
not  strange  at  all,  but  cui'ious.  It  is  wholly  con- 
trary to  the  impidses  of  youth  ;  but  the  contrari- 

■^    ness,  you  see,  is  just  as  natural  as  the  impulses 


SECOND  EVENiya. 


35 


are,  and  pt'i'liaps  a  littlo  nioru  so.  Tho  l)oy  is 
)r(.'tty  surely  a  radical  ;  all  his  philosophy  of  lite 
full  of  romance,  and  enthusiasm,  and  credulity. 
But  the  youuij^  man,  having  knocked  his  head  and 
fitunible<I  with  his  feet  a  few  times  against  the 
luird  realities  of  the  world,  becomes  so  distrustful 
and  afraid,  very  soon,  ol'  his  enthusiasms,  that  he 
tries  hard  to  extinguish  them,  and  pushes  himself 
with  all  his  might  to  the  opposite  extreme  of 
thinking  and  feeling.  Old  notions  of  things,  with 
their  wrinkles  and  their  gravness,  and  with  such 
mouldiness  even  as  they  may  have  acipiired,  look 
much  wiser  and  more  venerable  than  the  sleek 
upstart  parvenues  of  doctrine  which  oppose  them, 
and  he  has  not  courage  to  refuse  them  a  respectful 
deference,  Avhether  they  satisfy  his  judgment  <jr 
not.  He  fancies  that  they  mud  be  the  true  no- 
tions, and  he  is  fearful  and  ashamed  of  any  revolt 
in  himself  against  their  claims,  because  he  suspects 
that  it  is  ui-oceedinur  out  of  some  linji-erins;  bovish- 
ness  in  hiiii  which  he  ought  manfully  to  get  rid 
of.  So  he  becomes  resolutely  conservative,  in  liis 
ambition  to  become  manly,  and  mature,  and  dis- 
creet. If  selfish  ])ursuits,  of  fortune  or  ambition, 
gain  possession  of  him  then,  as  they  arc  apt  to  do, 
and  he  ceases  to  think  much  or  care  much  for 
things  outside  of  his  own  objects  in  life,  he  is 
more  likely  to  retain  his  conservative  attitude 
thenceforward  than   to  change  it,  simply  as  the 


u 


30 


TALK>^  AIWUT  LABOR. 


cH't'C't  of  a  certain  rlieuiiuitic  rurttiiig  iiiid  htilluniiig 
of  his  nature,  ratlier  than  hecause  of  any  eonrititu- 
tional  heut  of  niiud  tliat  he  lias.  Xow,  my  young 
friend  John  was  just  at  that  stage  of  his  Hfe  when 
the  fear  of  not  heing  conservatively  wise  and  pr\i- 
dent  overcame  pretty  much  all  that  was  instinctive 
and  natural  in  his  view  of  things.  l>eing  an  ex- 
cellent fellow,  of  industry,  intelligence  and  a 
steady  character,  he  had  risen  to  (juite  an  imjior- 
tant  clerkshi])in  one  of  the  iron-working  estahlish- 
nients  of  the  city,  with  reasonable  expectations  of 
a  partnership  in  time;  and  in  that  situation,  with 
these  prospects,  of  course  he  felt  himself  in  a 
measure  responsible  to  society  for  the  defending 
and  maintaining  of  its  well-estahlit'hed  arrange- 
ments and  institutions.  I  was  not  suii>rised,  thei'c- 
fore,  to  find  him,  although  greatly  pleased  with 
the  judge,  yet  stoutly  critical  of  his  views,  and 
much  disposed  to  he  afraid  of  some  hidden  infec- 
tion of  connnunisni,  or  other  dangerous  and  de- 
moralizing doctrine  in  them.  I  saw  how  it  was 
with  the  young  gentleman,  and  knew  that  the  talk 
would  do  him  good. 

"  Xow,"  said  the  judge,  after  some  greetings 
and  weather  observations  and  the  like,  mIicu  we 
had  settled  ourselves  before  the  fire,  "  if  we  are 
going  to  take  up  our  old  subject  again,  you  must 
not  let  me  prose  upon  it  as  I  did  last  night.  We 
must  have  more  of  a  conversation  and  less  of  a 


\ 


SECOXD  FV/':Xiy(7. 


37 


lecture  this  evening,  if  you  will  lu'lp  to  \<.vv[)  mo 
from  for^ettin^  myself/' 

"l>ut,  you  know,''  I  suggested,  "  tliat  we  pre- 
fer to  be  listeners  and  questioners  ehietly  in  this 
mutter,  because  we  have  none  of  us  retlected  upon 
it  as  you  have  done,  nor  arrived  at  the  convictions 
about  it  which  you  have.  AVe  are  askin<jj  you  to 
give  us  the  results  of  your  study  and  your  think- 
ing on  the  subject,  and  to  show  us  the  course  of 
reasoning  by  which  you  have  been  led  to  your 
opinions." 

"Yes,"  said  my  wife,  ""you  must  be  generous, 
and  not  exact  measure  for  measure." 

"  Well,  well ;  we'll  not  be  eeremoni(Uis  nor 
disputatious  about  it,"  the  judge  cried;  "but  I 
shall  endeavor  not  to  play  ([uite  so  oratorical  a 
part  as  I  certainly  did  last  night.  And  now,  where 
is  onr  question  ?  At  what  stage  of  argument  did 
we  drop  it  i  " 

1  was  ready  to  answer,  but  my  wife  proved  too 
quick  for  me. 

"Let  me  show  yon,"  said  she,  "how  far  a 
"Woman  can  be  interested  in  these  masculine  top- 
ics, and  how  understandingly  she  may  remember  a 
discussion  of  them.  You  had  shown  that  capital  ^ 
holds  over  labor  a  terribly  oppressive  advantage, 
which  is  dangerous  and  unjust  to  the  latter,  and 
which,  although  not  fully  exercised,  is  fully  as- 
serted as  of  riii-ht,  and  with  a  sanction  from  the  , 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


economical  philosophy  of  our  tiine  which  ought 


not  to  be  given  to  it." 

''  You  have  stated  it  with  precision,  madani, 
and  admirably,"  said  the  judge.  "  I  am  sure  that 
no  one  can  wish  to  amend  the  statement.  Are  we 
agreefl,  then,  to  this  point,  or  is  there  more  to  be 
(questioned  before  we  go  further  ? " 

"  I  should  like  to  ask  a  question,"  said  Master 
John,  blushing  a  little  at  his  own  boldness.  "  Is 
not  the  advantage  which  the  capitalist  holds,  as 
against  the  laborer  without  capital,  an  advantage 
that  belongs  to  him,  by  nature  and  by  right,  or  by 
the  intention  of  the  Creator  ?  Is  it  not,  I  mean, 
an  advantage  that  inevitably  accrues  to  him  by 
reason  of  some  superior  capability  that  he  is  en- 
dowed with,  and  on  account  of  which  the  pos- 
session of  capital  is  gathered  into  his  hands.  It 
seems  to  me  that,  inasnnich  as  men  are  not  created 
alike,  it  must  be  intended  that  each  should  have 
the  benelit  of  whatever  advantage  is  gained  for 
him  by  his  own  peculiar  faculties  or  his  own  pecul- 
iar character." 

'*■  This  is  an  important  question  that  you  have 
raised,"  answered  the  judge,  "  and  I  am  glad  that 
you  have  brought  it  up.  We  must  look  into  it. 
I  should  not  like  to  dispute  the  right  of  a  man  to 
appropriate  any  benefit  that  legitimately  accrues 
to  him  from  the  faculties  or  the  forces  which  G(^d 
has  endowed  him  with.     When  I  speak  of  ecpjity 


SECOND  EVENING . 


39 


between  men  I  do  not  mccan  equality.     There  is 
no  sncli  thing  as  equality  among  men  —  except 
their  equal  right  to  an  equal  opportunity  in  the 
world,  for  doing  according  to   their  capabilities 
and  according  to  whatever  moral  force  is  in  them. 
I  do  contend  for  that  equality,  but  for  nothing 
more,  and  this  is  what  I  mean  by  equity.     You 
would  not  say,  I  am  sure,  that  every  advantage 
which  one  man  possesses  over  another,  by  reason 
of  a  superior  natural  endowment,  can  be  equitably 
used  to  its  full  extent  ?   For  example,  one  is  phys- 
ically larger  and  stronger  than  anotlier,  so  that, 
if  he  chooses  to  do  so,  and  if  society  does  in  no 
way  interfere,  he  may  obtain  mastery  over  his 
fellow  by  muscular  superiority,  and  connnand  him 
as  a  subject  or  a  slave.     Would  you  say,  in  that 
case,  tluit  the  fortunately  strong  man  lias  a  right 
to  all  the  advantage  over  his  fellow  which  may 
accrue  to  him  by  reason  of  his  muscular  cai)a- 
bilities  % " 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  John  ;  "  we  are  not 


savages. 


''  And  if  one  man,  not  being  stronger  than  his 
fellow,  but  being  more  courageous  and  more  ener- 
getic and  aggressive,  is  still  al)le  to  domineer  over 
liim  and  to  place  him  in  a  position  of  dependence 
and  servility,  would  you  say  that  the  advantage 
which  he  thus  obtains  belongs  to  him  by  nature 
and  by  right,  and  l)y  the  intention  of  the  (^-eator, 


V'  ^  ..'\ 


\  > 


rr 


40 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


who  made  liiiii  a  more  afjo-resslve  creature  than 
his  neighbor  ^  " 

"Ko,  sir,"  said  John,  after  a  little  hesitation, 
"  I  should  not." 

"  Once  again,  then :  if  one  man,  without  being 
stronger  or  more  courageous  than  his  fellow,  is 
more  intelligent  and  inventive,  and  succeeds, 
therefore,  in  contriving  weapons  which  his  neigh- 
bor cannot  resist,  and  in  protecting  himself  with 
armor  which  his  neighbor  cannot  penetrate,  so 
that  he  is  able  to  override  his  neighbor,  as  the 
mediajval  knight  did  the  peasant,  and  to  do  as  he 
will  with  him — would  you  say  that  the  advantage 
which  accrues  in  this  way  from  a  superior  capa- 
bility belongs  to  its  possessor  by  right,  and  that 
society  or  social  opinion  has  no  busii^ess  to  inter- 
fere with  it  %  " 

"  I  do  not  think  that  I  should  say  so,"  re])lied 
John,  with  much  frankness ;  "  but  these  examples 
that  you  suggest  all  look  to  the  exercise  of  a 
tyrannical  brute  force,  which  civilized  society,  of 
course,  cannot  tolerate." 

"  Yes,  but  why  \  I  have  adduced  three  in- 
stances in  which  a  man  may  be  given  the  utmost 
results  of  an  advantaice  over  his  fellow-men  ob- 
tained  by  the  possession  of  a  su})erior  capability. 
In  our  iirst  example  the  advantage  is  a  physical 
one — that  of  muscular  strength  ;  in  the  second  it 
is  a  moral  one — that  of  courage  and  energy ;  in 


SECOND  EVEXma. 


41 


tlie  third  it  is  an  intellectual  one— tliat  of  knowl- 
edge and  invention.     The  three  sides  of  human 
nature  are  represented  in  these  three  examples, 
and  you  admit,  therefore,  tliat  there  may  accrue 
advantages  to  a  man  from  eveiy  kind  of  capability 
that  the  human  being  can  possess  which  he  has  no 
right  to  enjoy,  or  which  society  cannot  afford  to 
concede  to  him.     Xow,  what  is  the  distinction  to 
be  drawn  between  advantages  which  rightfully  be- 
long to  the  man  who  possesses  a  superior  capability 
and  those  which  do  not  rightfully  belong  to  him  ? '" 
My  young  friend  John  could  not  answer. 
"  Perhaps  we   can  find  out,"  continued  tlie 
judge,    "by  a  little   more   questioning.     If  the 
stronger  inan  has  no  right  to  subjugate  his  fellow- 
man,  by  the  superior  strength  tliat  he  possesses, 
he  has  a  right,  has  he  not,  to  the  larger  product  of 
the  more  efficient  labor  which  his  superior  streiK^th 
enables  liini  to  perform  ?  •'  ^ 

"  Undoubtedlv." 

"And  the  more  energetic  and  enterprising  man 
has  a  right  to  the  enjoyment  of  what  he  achieves 
by  his  superior  activity  and  resolution,  in  fair 
competition  with  his  neighbors  ?  " 
"  Certainly." 

"And  the  intelligent  man  who  makes  his 
knowledge  or  his  inventive  faculty  helpful  to  him 
ill  his  work,  has  a  right  to  the  benefit,  has  he 
not?" 


I 


42 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOB. 


i 


"  Assuredly." 

"It    seonis,  therefore,  tliat    according  to  our 
/      sense  of  right,  there  are  some  advantages  which 
the  man  who  is  more  capal)le,  in  any  wise,  than 
his  fellow,  may  justly  take  from  his  fortunate  en- 
dowment, and  some  which  he  may  not  take  with 
justice.     Consequently  the  mere  fact  that  such  an 
/  1       advantage  is  placed  within  his  power  by  the  Crea- 
tor who  endowed  him,  does  not  prove,  I  should 
say,  that  it  belongs  to  him  to  appropriate  at  will." 
\  "  That  is  true,  I  must  admit,"  said  John. 

"Just  what  does  belong  to  him  by  right,  and 

what  does  not,"  continued  the  judge,  "  may  not  be 

so  easy  to  determine  exactly.     We  may  safely  say, 

\        however,  that  a  man  has  a  right  to  the  beneiit  of 

I  every  advantage,  accruing  to  him  from  any  kind 

'  '     of  superior  capability,  which  is  not  a  disadvantage 

•  to  his  fellow-man,  or  which  is  not  exercised  at  the 

expense  of  his  fellow\" 

We  all  assented. 

"  I  think,  too,  that  the  converse  of  this  propo- 
"  sition  is  equally  true,  and  that  no  man  has  a  just 
\  right  to  any  use  of  any  advantage  in  this  world 

»  which  takes  aught  from  the  advantages  or  oppor- 

tunities of  any  other  man.  '  But  this  may  raise 
nice  questions  in  some  cases,  and  I  will  not  start 
them  by  asserting  it.  The  wings  of  genius  would 
sometimes  be  cli2)ped  if  that  were  made  the  rule. 
It  is  enough  for  our  present  inquiry  that  we  settle 


|!  ! 


. 


SECOND  EVEXIXG.  43 

fio  mncli  as  we  have  settled ;  tliat  might  of  any 
kind  does  not  make  right,  whether  the  potentiality 
in  qnestion  he  that  of  strength,  or  conrage,  or  cnn- 
ning,  of  industry,  or  economy,  or  enterprise.  The 
great  fact  to  he  recognized — the  fact  essential  to 
human  civilization — is  this:  tliat  every  gift  to  a 
man,  in  his  hody,  or  in  his  mind,  or  in  his  soul,  is 
an  obligation  as  well  as  a  gift ;  that  he  holds  it  for 
his  fellows  as  well  as  for  himself,  and  that  each 
one  is  so  far  his  brother's  keeper  that  he  is  bound 
to  take  care,  at  least,  that  his  brother  he  not 
harmed  nor  hindered  by  him." 

"  That  is  good  doctrine,"  exclaimed  my  wife. 

"  It  is  the  philosophy  of  Christianity  on  its  hu- 
man side,"  said  I. 

"  You  are  right,"  confessed  John,  "  and  I  see 
that  the  point  which  I  raised  against  your  argu- 
ment of  last  night  was  not  well  considered." 

"  It  is  not  necessary,  then,"  said  the  judge, 
"  to  go  further  into  this  part  of  our  subject.  But 
I  think  it  may  do  us  some  good,  nevertheless,  to 
consider  how  it  is,  under  what  circumstances  and 
through  M'hat  causes,  of  superior  capability  or 
otherwise,  that  the  capital  accumulated  by  hum'an 
industry  conies  to  be  gathered,  for  the  most  i)art, 
into  the  hands  of  a  comparatively  few  men,  while 
the  rest  hold  Jione  at  all  or  very  little.  AVhen  we 
speak  of  capitalists,  we  usually  refer  to  the  ricli 
men  of  the  community,  whose  wealth  is,  more  or 


ii 


18! 


ss 


TALKS  ABOUT  LATlOIt. 


{} 


\  \ 


less,  employed  pr  (luctivelyj  either  by  themselves 
or  by  others  to  whom  they  lend  it.  We  must  re- 
member, however,  that  the  term  enpitalists  includes 
a  great  multitude  besides,  who  are  not  to  be  con- 
sidered rich  men,  but  who  possess  some  surplus, 
more  or  less,  from  a  few  dollars  to  a  few  thousands 
of  dollars  in  efficient  value,  which  they  employ  in 
connection  with  their  own  hibor,  as  tradesmen,  as 
manufacturers,  as  farmers,  as  mechanics,  etc.  AV'e 
must  put  them  all,  of  every  degree  together,  to 
constitute  what  can  properly  be  called  the  capital- 
ist class,  as  distinguished  from  the  non-capitalist 
lal^oring  class.  Let  ns  do  so,  imaginatively,  and 
survey  the  congregation  which  has  the  Hothschilds 
and  the  Astors  at  one  extreme,  while  at  the  other 
extreme  are  the  humble  blacksmiths  and  shoe- 
makei's,  whose  little  capital  is  just  that  which  will 
furnish  them  with  shops  and  tools,  and  which  will 
buy  the  material  that  goes  into  a  job  of  work  in 
advance  of  its  being  paid  for,  besides  furnishing 
food  while  the  work  is  being  done.  Taking  them 
all  together,  I  wisli  to  consider  a  moment  the 
various  ways  in  which  they  have  severally  become 
possessed  of  their  capital. 

"  First  of  all,  there  is  the  capital  that  has  been 
accumulated  in  the  hands  that  hold  it  l)y  industry 
and  economy ;  by  hard  work,  producing  as  much 
as  possible,  and  by  saving  or  unwasteful  habits, 
consuming  as  little  as  may  be.    Most  of  the  smaller 


3-1 


SECON'D  E  VEXING. 


45 


capitals  are  of  tliis  description,  and  tliey  are  lield 
by  the  liighest  kind  of  riglit,  because  tliey  repre- 
sent a  surplus  of  actual  production,  retained  by  and 
belonging  to  the  men  whose  exertion  produced  it. 
The  largest  rights  that  can  be  claimed  for  capital 
must  be  conceded  to  those  who  hold  it  by  this 
tenure. 

"  Xext,  there  is  the  capital  that  accrues  to  tliose 
whom  we  call  men  of  superior  business  capability, 
by  the  operation,  on  a  large  scale,  of  the  faculty 
which  they  possess  of  organizing  and  directing 
productive  industry  ;  of  giving  the  highest  effi- 
ciency to  it  in  any  department,  and  of  practically 
perfecting  the  systematic  economy  of  labor  and 
its  exchanges.  Also  that  which  accrues  to  those 
who  improve  the  arts  of  industry  by  discovery 
and  invention,  and  to  those  who  extend  its  liehls 
and  render  its  economical  relationships  more  in- 
timate, by  enterprising  and  sagacious  undertak- 
ings. The  capital  which  accrues  in  these  ways  to 
men  of  faculty  and  energy,  under  the  just  limita- 
tions that  we  have  settled  upon,  is  as  honestly 
gotten  and  as  rightfully  held  as  the  other. 

"After  this,  there  comes  the  capital  that  is  ac- 
quired in  the  hands  of  those  who  possess  it  by 
what  we  call  successful  speculation  ;  by  shrewdly 
or  sagaciously  taking  a/dv^antage  of  opportunities 
in  tivade  which  are  produced  by  circumstances  out- 
Bide  of  themselves,  and  relative  to  which  they 


/ 


IM 


I 


?   f 


46 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


I 


liave  no  agency,  except  tliat  of  looking  ont  for 
tlieni  and  detecting  them.  The  capital  thus  got- 
ten together  seems  to  me  to  be  of  very  dubious 
tenure  and  the  rights  morally  attaching  to  it  very 
doubtful.  In  the  hands  that  hold  it,  it  does  not, 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  represent  production, 
but  acquisition.  It  is  acqiured,  generally  speak- 
ing, at  the  expense  of  others.  AVhile  the  faculties 
that  belong  to  the  thi'ifty  mechanic,  the  energetic 
manufacturer,  the  ingenious  inventor  and  the 
sagacious  projector,  are  all  useful  and  beneiicial  to 
society,  the  faculty  of  the  speculator  is  not  so  at 
all,  but  only  beneficial  to  himself.  It  enables  him 
to  gain  possession  of  that  which  he  has  in  no  way 
hel]}ed  to  produce.  It  is  a  kind  of  predatory 
talent,  an  I  deserves,  I  think,  very  little  admira- 
tion or  respect.  In  many  cases  the  exercise  of  it 
•is  not  morally  to  be  distinguished  from  adroit 
theft ;  in  some  cases  it  is  meaner  and  more  despi- 
cable than  theft.  The  mode  of  robbery  which  the 
footpad  and  the  burglar  pursue  is  an  honorable 
and  an  honest  one  compared  with  the  villainous 
stratagems  that  are  contrived  by  the  gambling 
speculators  of  the  stock-market  and  the  grain- 
market.  Though  society  tolerates  the  roljbery 
that  is  committed  by  a  speculative  '  corner '  and 
condemns  robbery  conmiitted  on  the  highway 
with  a  pistol,  the  iirst  is  the  meaner  theft  of  the 
two,  and  the  more   detestable.     Its  indirectness 


SEGOXD  BVB^ilXG. 


47 


lias  confused  the  moml  notions  of  nifinkind ;  but 
some  day,  I  trust,  we  shall  have  clearer  ideas  about 
it  prevailing-  in  society. 

"  JJy  another  kind  of  ac(|uisiti()n,  capital  is 
deposited,  so  to  speak,  in  the  hands  of  those  wlio 
become  possessors  of  it,  without  any  agency  at  all 
on  their  own  part,  either  honest  or  dish(jnest, 
either  pi'udential,  or  sagacious,  or  crafty.  They  are 
only  passive  reci|)ients  of  what  fortune,  or  good 
luck,  rs  we  call  it,  has  thrown  upon  them.  Of  such 
ca])italists  there  are  two  classes:  The  first  is  made 
up  of  those  who  inherit  an  accumulation  of  wealth. 
Their  own  exertions  have  hail  nothing  to  do 
with  the  acquisition  of  it.  ^It  has  })asse<l  into  their 
possession  either  by  gift,  or  under  ordinances  of 
society  which  are  wholly  founded  u])on  considera- 
tions of  expediency.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
natural  right  of  inheritance,  touching  any  kind  of 
desirable  possession,  whether  it  be  a  house,  or  a 
public  office,  or  an  honorable  title.  There  is  no  in- 
herent reason  of  justice  which  determines  that  a 
son  shall  become  possessed  of  the  wealth  which  his 
father  has  acquired,  when  the  father  dies.  •  Still 
less  is  there  any  naturally  just  reason  which  deter- 
mines that  the  wealth  accumulated  by  a  man  dur- 
ing his  life  shall  pass,  when  he  dies,  to  the  living 
person  of  nearest  kinship  to  him  in  blood,  what- 
ever the  remove  may  be.  The  law  which  dictates 
this  transmission  of  property  by  inheritance  is  one 


r 


48 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


•» 


i  ! 


it 


) 


purely  of  liuinan  institution.  Thus  far  in  the 
development  of  society,  men  have  agreed,  and  with 
THidoubted  prudence,  that  such  an  arrangement  is 
practically  the  best,  for  tlic  preservation  of  social 
order  and  for  the  conservation  of  social  stability  ; 
but  at  some  future  time  the  agreement  in  society 
about  the  disposition  to  be  made  by  law,  when  a 
man  dies,  of  such  wealth  as  his  exertions  have 
accumulated,  may  be  very  different,  perhaps.  It 
certainly  can  be  so  with  perfect  justice,  because 
the  arrangement,  as  I  conceive,  is  one  to  be  gov- 
erned entirely  by  the  interest  and  well-being  of 
society,  as  determined,  at  any  time,  by  its  condi- 
tion or  by  the  general  judgment  of  its  members. 
If  the  support  and  education  of  children  until  they 
arri\e  at  a  mature  age,  and  the  decent  support  of 
a  surviving  widow^,  are  provided  for  out  of  the 
estate  of  a  deceased  husband  and  father — who  is 
the  responsible  protector  of  these  dependents 
Avliile  they  are  de])endent  necessarily,  and  not 
longer — natural  justice  would  seem  to  be  fully 
satisfied.  At  all  events,  even  if  the  possessor  of 
inherited  wealth  be  fully  entitled  to  the  luxury 
of  living  and  to  the  exemption  from  necessitated 
labor  which  it  affords  him,  there  cannot  conceiv- 
ably accrue  to  him  from  it  such  rights  as  77iiist 
attach  to  the  accidental  possession  if  we  concede, 
sir,  that  the  advantages  which  the  man  with  capi- 
tal holds  over  the  man  without  capital  at'e  rights. 


SECOND  EVENING, 


49 


The  question  here  is  an  important  one,  because  a 
very  larfjje  pirt  of  the  capital  accumulated  in  the 
world  is  held  by  this  tenure  of  inheritance. 

"  iMuch  the  same  may  be  said  concerning  the 
second  class  of  those  who  liecouie  possessors  of 
capi^-al  with  no  more,  or  hardly  more,  than  a  pas- 
sive agency  on  their  own  part  in  the  at'(piisitit)n 
of  it.  '■  This  class,  which  is  a  large  one,  is  made  up 
of  men  who,  possessing  by  actual  ac(iuisition  some 
property  of  small  value  originally,  have  a  great 
a  cretion  of  exchanixeable  value  added  to  it,  throun-h 
the  incidental  effect  of  labor  performed  by  others 
around  them,  or  through  an  increase  of  neighl)or- 
ing  population,  or  through  some  such  cause  for- 
eign to  their  own  exertions.  The  property  in 
whicli  such  an  accretion  of  cxchanixeable  value  oc- 
curs  is  usually  property  in  land,  or  real  estate,  as 
we  call  it.  A  man  becomes  possessed,  for  exam- 
ple, of  a  x^iece  of  land,  to  which  no  other  value 
attaches,  in  the  first  instance,  than  the  productive 
value  of  its  soil.  I>ut  a  city  grows  up  around  it, 
and  industry  and  commerce  are  so  concentrated 
about  the  spot  in  whicli  this  piece  of  land  happens 
to  lie  that  mere  space,  in  square  inches  and  square 
feet,  acquires  just  tliere  a  great  artificial  value, 
relatively  to  the  value  of  other  thinixs.  Bv  sellino- 
his  land,  or  by  taking  rent  for  its  use,  the  man 
becomes  rich — ^becomes  largely  possessed  of  capi- 
tal, if  he  chooses  to  employ  it  as  such — without 
3 


1 


A     ' 


I 


I  I 


50 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


\\ 


any' exertion  of  his  own,  and  oftentimes  witliout 
any  fore-calculation  even  of  the  causes  which  op- 
erated to  ^ive  vahie  to  his  landw  Isow,  I  am  not 
goiiiiT  to  raise  a  question  as  to  liis  ri*^ht  to  the 
wealth  which  accrues  to  him  in  this  way,  althou^'h 
it  is  very  niucli   of  a  question   whether  ])rivate 
property  in  land  sliould  exist  at  all.     J  certaiidy 
cannot,  for  myself,  satisfactorily  refute  those  coo;ent 
arguments  which  sustain  the  doctrine  that  the  soil 
and  surface  of  the  earth  are  the  common  ])roperty 
of  its  inhabitants;  that  individuals  can  rightfully 
appro])riate  nothing  more  than  the  use  of  such 
portions  of  soil  and  sui)erticial  space  as  they  do 
use,  nnd  can  only  do  that  with  the  consent  and 
nnder  the  control  of  the  community  and  state  in 
which  they  live.     In  this  view,  the  only  rvAxt  of 
property  which  a  man  can  have  in  land  is  that 
relating  to  the  value  which  he  creates  in  it,  or 
npon  it,  by  his  own  productive  exertions ;  for  all 
such  lixed  improvements  as  he  makes,  by  clearing, 
by  draining,  by  fertilizing,  by  inclosing,  by  erect- 
ing buildings,  etc.,  arc  as  cei'tainly  his  own  as  the 
movable  things  which  his   labor   has  produced  ; 
but  any  other  '  real  estate'  than  that  belongs  very 
doubtfully  to  any  individual.     However,  we  need 
not,  as  I  said,  raise  the  question  now.     The  only 
point  which  1  wish  to  make  is  this :  that  when 
wealth  is  gathered,  as  so  much  of  the  wealth  of 
the  world  is  gathered,  into  the  hands  that  hold  it  at 


SEGOXI)  EVHXIXG. 


51 


any  ^iven  tlmo,  ])y  inoro  acorotion  of  relative  vahio 
ill  some  pict'c  of  land  which  a  man  has  acciden- 
tiiily  acqnirod,  and  wlu'ii  tliat  accretion  is  inci- 
dentally l)i'oii;i:lit  ahoiit  hy  the  operation  of  human 
cneriries  which  the  man  himself  has  very  likely 
contributed  nothin«^  to,  it  cannot  be,  in  such  cases, 
that  the  possessor  of  this  wealth  becomes  endowed 
by  it  with  any  such  rights  as  our  youn^r  friend 
proposes  to  concede  to  the  ca[)italist,  and  which 
are  practically  conceded  to  him  in  the  politico- 
economical  })hilosoj)hy  of  the  present  day.  It  can- 
not be  so,  because  we  cannot  possibly  reconcile  - 
such  an  idea  with  our  sense  of  justice. 

''  There  is  only  one  more  way  in  which  capital 
is  acquired  that  I  mnst  notice.  It  is  the  method 
of  outright,  recognized  dishonesty  ;  by  cheating 
and  overreaching,  by  adulteration  and  deception,  * 
by  bribery  and  corruption  ;  by  practising  upon 
the  ignorance,  the  credulity,  or  the  carelessness  of 
juen,  and  by  all  the  numy  knavish  tricks  which 
evade  or  defy  our  criminal  laws,  and  which  the 
technicalities  of  law  often  make  an  actual  cov^er 
for.  It  is  quite  unnecessary  to  ask  what  just 
rights  belong  to  the  possessors  of  capital  acquired 
in  these  ways,  as  attaching  to  the  advantages  which  ' 
they  derive  from  it;  because,  of  course,  they  have 
none.  It  is  obvious  that  their  ix)ssession  of  what 
they  hold  is  due  merely  to  the  toleration  by  so- 
ciety of  a  recognized  injustice  which  it  is  impotent 


f 


H  nt 


52 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


V 


Y 


A 
\  i 

i 


^  -A  '^  ^^ 


A 


\    y 


as  yet  to  prevent.  But  it  would  be  sickening,  I 
am  afraid,  to  inquire  liow  mucli  of  the  existing 
caj)ital  of  the  world  is  held  in  the  hands  of  men 
who  have  acquired  it  by  sinister  means  of  this  sort. 

*'  AVe  have,  then,  if  I  have  classified  correctly, 
live  generically  dillering  processes  by  which  all 
existing  capital  has  accumulated,  or  become  ag- 
gregated, in  the  hands  of  its  present  possessors. 
Ei'oadl}'  generalizing,  I  think  that  all  the  wealth 
or  capital  existing  (and  for  the  moment  we  may 
as  well  draw  no  distinction  between  wealth  and 
capital)  is  embraced  in  these  five  categories  : 

"  1.  Capital  which  is  the  residue  that  unwaste- 
f  ul  consumption  leaves  to  industrious  labor,  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  have  performed  the  labor. 
This  includes  the  surplus  earnings  of  all  nsefully- 
applied  labor  ;  not  only  that  which  is  directly  pro- 
ductive, but  that  which  the  actual  producers  need 
or  desire  to  have  performed  for  them.  It  includes, 
therefore,  the  labor  of  physicians,  surgeons,  law- 
yers, clergymen,  artists,  literary  men,  and  the  like. 

"  2.  Capital  which  accrues  to  those  wlio  have 
the  faculty  to  organize  and  direct  with  efficiency 
the  productive  labor  of  others ;  or  the  facultj^  to 
make  large,  economical  combinations  in  the  ex- 
changing of  the  products  of  labor  between  different 
parts  of  the  world ;  or  the  ingenious  faculty  Avhich 
improves  the  implements  and  processes  of  pro- 
ductive industry ;  or  the  enterprising,  sagacious 


SECOND  EVE  XING. 


53 


faculty  tliat  conceives  and  carries  ont  great  pnLlic 
works,  Avliicl)  result  in  wider  and  more  intimate 
relations  between  the  diverse  industries  of  the 
world. 

^'  3.  Capital  that  is  gotten  into  possession  by 
what  we  call  speculation,  which  is  either  mere 
gamhling  or  a  shrewd  catching  of  opportunities  in 
trade,  produced  very  often  by  public  calamities, 
or  by  distui'bances  of  industry  and  commerce  that 
are  adverse  to  the  public  weal. 

"  4r.  Capital  that  is  received  by  inheritance,  or 
otherwise  passively  ac(|uired  by  its  possessors, 
without  any  agency,  or  a  very  small  agency,  of 
their  own,  in  the  acquisition  of  it.^ 

"  5.  Capital  tliat  is  acrpiired  by  actual,  nnrpies- 
tionable  fraud.  v 

"  AV^e  may  generalize  further,  perhaps,  and  re- 
duce our  iive  categories  to  two,  dividing  all  wealth, 
and  therefore  all  capital,  into  two  parts,  separated 
by  one  most  essential  distinction  : 

"  1.  Capital  held  by  those  who  have  contrib- 
uted more  or  less  to  the  creation  of  it. 

"  2.  Capital  held  by  those  who  have  contrib- 
uted little  or  nothing  to  the  creation  of  it. 

"  ]S^ow  is  it  consistent,  let  me  ask,  with  your 
notion  of  justice,  as  between  men,  that  capital, 
which  is  the  product  of  human  industry,  should 
be  held  in  ])ossession  by  men  wlio  have  performed 
none  of  the  labor  that  produced  it,  nor  any  such 


'•  '1 


fl 


54 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


]abor  as  assists,  or  educates,  or  inspires,  or  grati- 
fies the  wants  of  those  wlio  produced  it,  unless  it 
is  jjossessed  hy  gift  ?  " 

Tliis  question  was  addressed  to  Master  John, 
who  promptly  answered  :  "  No,  sir,  it  is  not.  If 
strict  justice  were  to  prevail,  I  am  sure  there  could 
be  no  such  thing  possible  as  the  possessing  of 
wealth  or  capital  without  having  created  it,  un- 
less it  had  been  conferred  by  gift,  or  by  some 
C(piitable  exchange  with  those  who  did  create  it. 
]>ut  is  such  final  justice  possibles  " 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  later  question,"  said  the  judge ; 
"  we  are  discussing  principles  now.  At  least  in  our 
accepted  beliefs  we  should  aim,  I  think,  to  sustain 
that  which  is  absolutely  YuAxt  and  true,  without  re- 
gard  to  what  may  or  may  not  seem  to  be  |)racticable 
for  the  moment.  You  do  not  dispute  the  propo- 
sition that  capital  ought  in  strict  justice  to  beloiig, 
as  a  prevailing  rule  at  least,  to  those  M'ho  have 
contributed  to  the  producing  of  it,  or  who  have 
contributed  in  some  way  to  the  satisfying  of  the 
wants  of  its  producers  I  " 

"  No ;  I  should  say  that  the  proposition  can- 
not be  reasonably  disputed." 

"  And  it  appears  to  l)e  tlie  fact,  does  it  not, 
that  a  very  large  part  of  the  wealth  or  capital  so 
far  accumulated  in  the  world  has  passed,  by  one 
means  and  another,  into  the  possession  of  men 
who  can  show  no  such  title  to  the  possession,  or 


t.i 


SECOXD  EYENIXG. 


:5 


wlio  can  show  the  right  for  a  small  portion  only 
of  what  they  hold  i  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  an  exaggeration  t<i  say 
that  one-third  of  all  the  wealth  now  existing  has 
been  gatliered  into  tlie  luinds  of  its  present  hold- 
ers hy  inheritance,  by  passive  aeei'etion  of  value 
(rehitively  or  excliangeably),  by  sj)eculation,  by 
gambling,  and  by  various  kinds  of  fraud  ? ',' 

"  No ;  I  am  afraid  tliat  more  than  that  pro- 
portion of  the  whole,  rather  than  less,  woidd  be 
found,  on  a  strict  incpiiry,  to  fall  within  your  cate- 
gories of  questionably-acquired  capital." 

"  Then,"  said  the  judge,  "  the  inequity  of  the 
distribution  of  wealth  is  surely  a  very  serious 
matter  ;  and  if  tliere  is  any  upward  movement  of 
development  in  humanity,  as  I,  for  one,  firmly 
believe,  then  there  must  be  a  discoverable  ten- 
dency in  society  toward  the  correction  of  this  in- 
ecpiity,  by  the  operation  of  social  forces  and  in- 
fluences which  have  a  just  direction.  If  we  only 
investigate  as  political  economy  guides  us,  we 
shall  make  no  such  discovery,  becanse  the  politi- 
cal economist  takes  account  of  no  motive  in  hu- 
man action  except  self-interest  or  seliishness.  Sci- 
entifically he  has  no  right  to  take  account  of  any 
other  motive,  because  his  business  is  simi)ly  to  in- 
vestigate correlatively  the  conditions  under  which 
the  exertions  of  men  are  ap[)lied  to  produce  the 


^ 


•V 


yy/ 


y 


) 


r — r 


I 


(T< 


xV 


< 


56 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR 


^ 


satisfaction  of  tlieir  wants  and  desires,  and  lie  has 
^one  to  tlio  proper  limit  of  his  science  when  ho 
has  formulated  into  laws  the  oj^eration  of  this  one 
impulse,  from  self,  which  acts  in  all  human  in- 
dustry. I  have  no  quarrel  to  make  with  political 
economy,  as  I  said  last  night.  I  only  contend 
that  there  is  a  larger  social  philosophy — an  ethi- 
_cal  econonn',  so  to  speak — which  embraces  politi- 
cal economy  and  extends  far  outside  of  it,  and 
into  the  wider  domain  of  which  we  have  got  to 
carry  such  (piestions  as  this.  AVhen  I  look  there, 
it  seems  to  me  that  I  can  see  a  gradual  evolution 
of  what  I  Avould  call  moral  intelligence  in  the 
civilized  world,  which  tends,  though  very  slowly, 
to  modify  the  great  impelling  force  of  seliislmess 
in  all  directions,  and  even,  therefore,  in  the  ac(pd- 
sition  of  wealth.  It  is  certainly  a  very  slow  evo- 
lution, and  the  fact  that  it  is  so  does  not  discour- 
age my  faith. 

"  I  do  not  helieve,  you  know,  in  ignorant 
morality.  Happily  for  the  M'orld,  there  is,  often- 
times, among  men,  without  the  least  rationality 
of  conscience,  a  certain  negative  rectitude  of  con- 
duct which  bears  some  resemblance  to  virtue,  but 
which  is  not  of  the  true  quality  of  virtue  at  all. 
It  is  altogether  a  negative  thing.  It  is  right  con- 
duct because  it  is  not  wrong  conduct,  that  is  all. 
It  may  come  of  feebleness,  it  may  come  of  sinq)le- 
ness,  it  may  come  of  mere  dull,  plastic  obedience 


SECOND  EVENING. 


57 


to  HOine  <,niidlng  religious  authority  ;  but  it  docs 
not  come  of  any  vital  moral  force,  and  is  of  no 
account  wliatever  in  an  estimate  of  tlie  moral  con- 
dition of  mankind.  To  do  right  -^"om  an  under- 
standing of  right  is,  in  my  view,  ti.  „;.ly  genuine 
virtue. 

"  Truth  and  right  are  always  coincident  with 
pure  reason,  and  every  notion  of  right  and  wrong 
that  we  have,  as  I  conceive,  is  derived  from  the 
reasoning  intelligence,  wldch  God  gave  us  for  our 
enlightenment  in  this  way  as  in  all  other  ways.  But 
the  concepts  out  of  which  these  moral  notions  are 
logically  formed  come  from  outside  the  region  of 
sensual  discovery,  so  that  the  reason  is  not  heli)edl 
by  the  seiises  to  recognize  their  logical  relation- j 
ships,  as  it  is  helped  in  the  whole  domain  of  sci-'' 
entitle  knowledge.      It  necessarily  works,  there-' 
foi-e,  toward  the  apprehension  of  moral  truth  with; 
far  greater  slowness  and  difficultv  than  toward  the  \ 
apjirehension  of  that  which  is  sensibly  phenom-  ! 
enal ;  it  needs,  too,  a  far  longer  exercise  and  cnlt-  ' 
ure  to  prepare  it  for  as  ready  and  clear  a  compre- 
hei    'on  of  such  ti'uth.     AVho  can  wonder,  then, 
if  what  we  call  the  intellectual  development  of  | 
maid^cind  is  far  in  advance  of  its  moral  develop- 
ment ?     It  coidd  not  be  otherwise.     The    neces- 
sary difference  is  so  great  that  we  can  see  nothinir 
proportionate  in  it ;  and  yet  there  is,  uncpiestion- ' 
ably,  a  certain  ratio,  always,  between,  for  example, : 


f  1  I . 


58 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


^^..\l\\  i\ 


\ 


\ 


the  scientiiic  knowlet^o  and  tlie  moi-al  develop- 
ment of  the  liuiiiaii  "ace.  The  easier  C)l)jective 
Avork  of  the  hiimau  reason  is  its  trainin*::  for  tlic 
liarder  subjet-tive  Avork  Avliich  it  is  e(jually  ap- 
pointed to  do,  and  tlie  evohition  of  moral  intelli- 
gence hy  the  latter  keeps  pace  with  the  evohition 
of  scientific,  artistic,  and  political  intelligence  l)y 
the  fonner,  though  lingeringly  and  far  behind. 
No  doubt  the  separation  is  an  increasing  one,  and 
tliat  fact  is  deceptive  to  ns ;  but  it  is  like  the  race- 
running  of  the  tortoise  and  the  hare — the  distance 
between  them  augments  while  l)otli  advance,  and 
even  though  there  may  be  some  constant  and  pro- 
portionate acceleration  of  the  progress  of  both. 

"  There  is  this  ordei",  as  I  beh'eve,  in  the  devel- 
opment of  humanity  :  1.  Toward  objective  or  sen- 
I  suous  intelligence  ;  2.  Toward  subjective  or  moi-al 
)  intelligence;  3.  Toward  the   disci})lining  of    the 
animal  man  to  act  in  accord  with  his  intelligence. 
The  first  of  these  will  alwavs  be  far  in  advance  of 
\  the  second  ;  the  second  alwavs  in  advance  of  the 
i  third  ;  and  yet  the  first  and  the  second  conti'ibute 
',  steadily  to  the  last,  in  which  their  whole  divine 
/  purpose  wonld  seem  to  be  consummated. 

"  Our  faith  in  the  moral  progress  of  man  is  ai)t 
to  be  foolishly  discouraged  because  his  conduct 
continues  to  be  so  far  in  opposition  to  what  he 
does  apprehend  of  right  and  wrong.  Yet  there  is 
that  same  perversity  of  conduct,  opposed  to  knowl- 


SEC 0X1)  EVENING. 


59 


edge,  even  wliere  tbe  strongest  persuasions  of 
mere  .miiiial  selHsliiies.s  cooperate  with  the  under- 
standing to  restrain  it.  In  the  care  of  our  hodiesT" 
for  example,  we  act  just  as  far  in  contradiction  of 
Avhat  we  know  of  the  facts  of  physiology,  of  liy- 
giene,  and  of  sanitary  science,  as  we  act  in  contra- 
vention of  what  we  understand  to  be  right  and 
wrong  ill  our  moral  relationships.  The  perversity 
of  conduct  signifies  no  more  in  one  case  than  in 
the  other.  In  every  case  it  only  signiiles  the  im- 
perfect training  of  the  animal  and  the  volitional 
]>arts  of  man  to  obey  the  reasoning  force  in  him, 
M'hich  is  the  sovereign  force,  nevertheless,  and 
which  is  surely  destined,  in  the  Divine  plan,  to' 
dominate  completely  at  last.  That  such  training 
goes  steadily  on,  however  slowly,  and  that  men 
do  act,  in  all  ways,  a  little  more  according  to  what 
they  know,  however  far  their  doing  may  still  fall 
behind  their  knowing,  I  am  not  able,  for  one,  to 
doubt." 

"  But,"  I  interposed  at  this  point,  "  how  does 
your  theory  tally  with  the  facts  of  human  history  i 
Do  we  not  lind  the  fundamental  ideas  of  right  and 
wrong  as  w^ell  devel(»ped  and  as  well  detined  in 
the  earlier  historic  stages  of  civilization  as  we  do 
now  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  judge,  "the  primitive, 
fundamental  ideas  of  right  and  wron^]:  are  anionj^ 
the   simplest,  and   therefore   among   the   earliest 


CO 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


ideas  tliat  man  acquires.  Some  of  tlicin  are  so 
simple  and  so  primitive  tliat  tliey  are  almost  like 
the  axioms  of  mathematical  science,  Avliich  we  call 
self-evident  propositions,  because  they  contain  in 
the  very  statement  of  them  all  the  reasoning  that 
enters  into  their  construction.  The  difficulty  to 
the  human  intelliii'ence  is  not  in  laving:  hold  of 
these  first  principles  of  right,  but  in  combining 
and  in  a])plying  them,  as  rules  of  conduct,  under 
vaiying  circumstances  and  conditions,  and  in  va- 
rying situations,  to  varying  human  relationships. 
AVhile  it  easily  learns  to  shift  its  application  of 
fundamental  laws  in  science,  or  art,  or  politics,  it 
is  readily  confused  and  perpetually  loses  its  bear- 
ings, so  to  speak,  in  carrying  a  moral  truth  from 
one  group  of  relationships  to  another.  The  same 
thing  is  true  of  all  the  subjective  movements  of 
the  human  intellect — in  all  ratiocinative  operations 
where  it  passes  outside  of  tangible  things,  and 
away  from  the  cooperation  of  the  serviceable  senses 
of  the  human  body.  I  am  spealdng,  of  course,  of 
the  average  human  mind,  as  represented  by  the 
mass  of  men  and  women,  and  I  do  not  take  ac- 
count of  the  exceptional  few  who  are  given  to  be 
tutors  of  the  many.  Take  an  example  from  our 
present  to]^ic  :  the  sim])le  idea  of  the  riglit  of 
pi'operty  is  one  of  the  fundamental  ideas  of  right, 
and  constructed  very  simply,  out  of  little  more 
than  the  ego  and  non-ego,  or  self-consciousness  for 


^1 


SECOXD  EVE  XING. 


01 


its  first  element  and  the  coijfiiitioii  of  aiiolher  self 
for  its  second.  I  luive  no  doubt  that  tlie  moral 
law,  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal,'  was  apju'ehended  by 
the  more  advanced  tribes  of  men  long  before  its 
deliverance  on  Mount  Sinai.  But  those  who  could 
see  it  to  be  a  law  of  right  conduct  between  them- 
selves and  their  familiar  neighbors,  whom  they 
were  habituated  to  look  upon  as  fellow-men,  fellow- 
citizens,  fellow-members,  that  is,  of  their  own 
tribe  and  nation,  could  not  carry  it  to  its  univer- 
sal  application  without  becoming  confused  and 
lost.  Conse(|uently,  in  the  very  counnunity  where 
theft,  or  the  seizure  of  anotlier's  goods,  had  be- 
come a  recognized  wrong,  as  between  its  own 
members,  we  continually  find  piracy  ami  predatory 
warfare  upon  alien  or  separated  comunmities  to  be 
fully  approved  and  never  thought  of  as  conduct 
possessing  the  same  wrongful  nature.  The  sim})le 
explanation  of  this  repeated  ajiomaly  in  human 
history — an  anomaly  which  is  still  repeated,  to  no 
small  extent,  even  within  our  civilized  regions — is, 
that  th"  moral  intellin-ence  of  the  averaf::e  man  re- 
<piires  long  culture  before  it  is  able  to  give  univer- 
sal application  even  to  the  oldest  maxims  of  right, 
and  is  not  confused  and  betrayed  by  habitual  no- 
ti(jns  of  nationality,  or  race,  or  sect,  or  class,  or  by 
the  simplest  variations  of  circumstance.  If  you 
were  to  contrive  to-day  some  ingeni(3us  new  way 
of  gaining  possession  of  the  property  of  another 


C3 


TALKH  ABOUT  LAJlOli, 


I 


' 


y 


r   ^ 


wltlumt  tlio  owner's  consent,  society  at  lai'j^-e  would 
be  a  lonji;  time,  I  venture  to  say,  in  gettin,iif  it  cat- 
alogued in  the  list  of  recopiized  dishonesties.  To 
the  majority  of  men,  a  variation  from  the  simplest 
ibrm  of  stealiuii;  does  actually  disi^uise  or  obscure 
the  fact  that  it  is  stealin<>;.  The  same  slow  awk- 
wardness a])pears  in  the  handling  of  every  other 
moral  truth  by  the  avera<>-e  human  intellect,  no 
matter  how  fully  ac(piired  the  truth  may  be  in  its 
primitive  nakedness.  AVhcn  you  take  this  human 
inti'lliujence  of  ours  away  from  the  re<iion  of  sen- 
sible objects,  where  it  can  measure  and  mark  its 
bearings,  l)y  visual  reference  to  every-day  objects 
and  every-day  ]»henomena,  as  the  surveyor  does 
Avhen  he  is  running  a  right  line,  it  is  easily  led 
astrav  :  and  I  do  not  wonder  when  I  find  it  so.  It 
is  quite  according  to  Nature,  I  think,  that  the  hu- 
man reason  should  need  nnicli  cultui'e  before  it  can 
deal  with  _sLd)jeclive  ideas  as  easily  as  it  deals  with 
objective  ideas,  and  therefoi'e  I  exj^ect  the  olrjec- 
tive  advancement  of  the  intelligence  of  niaid<ind 
to  be  far  in  advance  of  its  subjective  or  moral  de- 
velopment, while  I  am  very  sure,  nevertheless,  that 
the  one  is  everlastingl  v  a  contribution  to  the  other. 
^  "  l^ut  very  likely  von  do  not  see  what  bearing 
all  this  moral  j)hilosophy  has  on  our  present  ques- 
tion l " 

I  admitted  tliat  I  did  not  see  the  bearing  ex- 
actly. 


SECOXD  EVES  IN  a. 


03 


"  Well,"  siiid  tbo  jud^o,  "  I  liiive  gone  Into  it 
a  littlu  l)eeauso  tliis  doeti'iiio  of  moniU  is  at  tlie 
bottom  of  my  whole  social  j)hiloso[)hy.  it  is  the 
justiticjitioii  1  have  to  olTer  for  my  faith  in  an  ul- 
timate (k'lermination  of  e(juity  between  the  ca[»i- 
talist  and  the  laborer,  wliich  [)olitical  economy 
does  not  promise;  and  also  because  it  is  necessa- 
rily preliminary  to  two  or  three  (piestions  that  I 
wish  to  ask  before  we  drop  our  subject  to-nig'ht. 
1  wish  to  ask  you  if  you  think  that  downi'ight, 
direct  robbery  is  as  rife  in  tins  generation  as  it  was 
last  century,  within  what  we  call  the  civilized  com- 
munities i  In  other  words,  it'  professional  rol)- 
bers,  such  as  highwaymen,  brigands,  pirates,  burg- 
lars, etc.,  who  plunder  their  fellow-men  without 
any  disguise,  are  as  numerous  as  they  were  'i  " 
After  a  little  consideration  we  all  said,  "  Xo." 
"  Some  progress  has  been  made,  then,"  said 
the  judge,  ''  in  diminishing  theft  of  the  undis- 
guised soi't,  at  least.  Now,  what  has  l>een  the 
agent  i  Do  you  think  that  law  has  done  it,  by 
increased  vigor  and  elliciency  i  You  must  re- 
member that  the-  law  was  terribly  merciless  a  hun- 
dred vears  a^-o  in  its  dealinLV  with  these  crimes 
against  property  ;  terribly  merciless  and  savagely 
vigilant.  It  hanged  men  and  women  for  trivial 
thefts,  and  kept  its  executioners  busy.  Since  our 
•entury  began,  the  tendency  of  the  law  has  been 
all  the  time  toward  a  milder  spirit,  with  not  much. 


*/ 


/ 


(il 


TALKS  ABOUT  LAliOli. 


J 


^ 


\ 


r 


\- 


iiicreaso,  tliiit  I  can  sec,  in  tlu-  ciuTiiy  of  its  po- 
lico.  It  is  true  tluit  •j;as-li»^litin^  and  iit'wspaj)i'rri 
and  tlie  telegTaph  have  multiplied  the  eyes,  ears, 
and  jirnis  of  the  law  to  a  wonderful  extent ;  hut 
btill,  wlien  all  reasonahle  credit  is  given  to  these 
modern  agencies  in  the  police  system  of  society, 
do  you  think  that  the  great  diminution  which  has 
taken  [>lace  in  common  theft  and  violent  robljery 
can  be  attributed  altogether  to  an  augmentation 
of  force  in  government  and  law  r' 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  unless  the  law  gains  in  elH- 
ciency  by  the  lessening  of  its  rigor." 

'"  J)Ut  that  cannot  be,  my  dear  sir,  ludess  there 
is  some  other  restraining  force  in  cooperation  with 
the  law,  which  the  law  gives  room  to,  by  a  wise 
retirement  of  its  own  encMg-ies.  Nov/,  that  is 
just  the  point  I  was  coming  to.  There  is  such  a 
moi'ally  restraining  force,  which  slowly  evolves 
itself  in  society,  and  which,  as  it  is  generated,  be- 
comes more  powerful  than  law.  Jhb  is  piiblic  seii- 
timent,  as  we  call  it,  or  the  prevailing  enlighten- 
ment of  a  given  community  at  a  given  time,  with 
reference  to  the  applications  of  a  given  princij)le 
of  riii'ht.  This  moral  intellijj:ence,  iirsi  ii-atherin<»: 
into  forcefulncss  among  the  few,  ])ercolates  down- 
ward with  sure  slowness  into  the  duller  mass, 
and  works  a  gi-adnal  change  in  the  general  disi)o- 
sition  of  society  toward  particular  forms  of  wi'ong- 
doing.     Within  the  past  century  it  has  operated  to 


SECOND  EVEXIXO.  05 

render  all  kinds  of  siinplo  KtealiniJj  and  violent 
rohhery  more  dis^q'acet'ul  than  they  used  to  he; 
that  is  to  say,  it  has  placed  the  human  mind,  in 
(•ivilize(l  countries,  more  generally  in  an  attitude 
of  contempt  toward  them  ;  and  the  contempt  of 
matdvind  is  more  terrihle  to  the  average  human 
])eing  than  scalTolds  or  prisons  are.  A  certain  ad- 
miration of  heroism  used  to  he  conceded,  not 
more  than  a  generation  ago,  to  the  boldness  of  the 
footpad  and  the  daring  of  the  burglar — to  the 
Jack  She])j)ards,  the  Dick  Tur])ins,  a!id  the  Mor- 
rills  of  that  time — which  all  the  audacity  of  the 
'James  Brothers'  and  tlie  'Younger  Brotho»*s' 
and  their  sort  in  our  day  cannot  inspire.  The  ro- 
mance of  these  crimes  is  utterly  gone.  The  com- 
mon moral  intelliijenee  of  mankind  has  been  de- 
veloped  far  enough'  to  recognize  the  desi)icable 
villainy  of  a  thief  and  robber,  no  matter  what 
qualities  of  courage  or  coolness,  dexterity,  inven- 
tion, or  enterprise,  may  surround  and  color  it. 
Toward  all  modes  of  outright  theft  and  robbery 
the  public  sentiment  of  society  has  become  con- 
demnatory and  contemptuous,  as  it  never  was 
before  ;  and  that,  more  than  all  other  reasons,  ac- 
counts to  me  for  the  diminished  prevalence  and 
audacitv  of  these  crimes. 

"  In  the  siYme  way,  ordinary  gambling,  which 
was  the  fashion  of  society  a  hundred  years  ago, 
and  not  merely  tolerated  but  approved,  has  now 


, » 


I 


6G 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOP.. 


Lccoine  clisrepntaLlc,  and  is  driven,  for  the  most 
part,  into  shaine-faeed  hiding.  So,  too,  has  duel- 
ing been  suppressed,  in  all  the  better  civilized 
e<:»untries,  not  by  law,  but  by  pul)lic  sentinieiit,  or 
bv  what  I  call  a  moral  intelli<j:ence,  which  has  be- 
come  so  far  advanced  that  no  sham  code  of  honor, 
or  pride  of  physical  courage,  and  no  specious  dif- 
ferences of  manner  and  circumstance  in  the  deed, 
can  blind  it  any  longer  to  the  murder  that  is  done 
when  one  hiiman  being  kills  another  with  deliber- 
ation and  intent. 

"  These  facts,  and  jnany  more  of  the  same 
kind  which  I  might  adduce,  are  very  significant  to 
me.  They  teach  us,  I  think,  in  what  way  to  look 
for  the  moral  improvement  of  society  and  what  to 
expect  as  an  evolutio'i  of  justice  and  right.  They 
teach  me  to  believe  vluit  there  is  being  developed, 
in  the  common  crowd  of  human  beings,  a  better 
state  of  moral  intelligence,  which  slowly  tends  to 
the  detection  of  theft  in  all  its  disguises,  one  by 
one,  and  which  shall'brand  in  time  the  man  who 
steals  his  neighbor's  goods  by  cheating  in  trade,  or 
by  overreaching,  o"  chicanery,  or  fraud,  or  by  dis- 
honest cunning  of  any  kind,  as  much  as  the  man 
who  steals  by  picking  a  pocket  or  picking  a  lock  ; 
and  which  shall  pronounce,  too,  against  gambling 
with  stocks  or  with  connuodities  of  the  market  as 
strongly  as  against  gandding  with  dice  and  cards. 
But,  if  the  gradual  clearing  of  this  moral  intelli- 


SECOXD  EVEXIXG. 


67 


c:ciic;e  temLs  tliat  way,  toward  tlio  rceorciiiziiin: 
and  enforcing  of  rules  of  honesty  in  tlie  conduct 
of  men,  it  tends  still  more  obviously,  I  tliiidv, 
toward  the  recognition  and  enforcement  of  rules  ^ 
of  justice  between  them.  For  it  is  plain  to  me 
that  the  generalizing  of  such  laws  of  justice  as  do 
not  concern  property  alone  has  made  greater  prog- 
ress of  late  than  the  £»:eneraliziui»:  of  the  law  of 
honesty,  or  of  property-rights,  although  it  is  the 
greater  generalization  of  the  two,  and  really  com- 
prehends the  other,  because  honesty  is  but  one 
particular  of  justice,  and  nothing  more.  A\^ith 
reference,  therefore,  to  all  the  modes  in  which 
wealth  becomes  partitioned  among  men,  I  lirui- 
ly  believe  that  we  are  tending,  in  a  slow,  sure 
way,  toward _e(piity,  though  not,  as  we  must  care- 
fully remember,  toward  ecpiality." 

"  You  are  right,  judge,"  cried  I ;  "  you  are 
righc.  I  am  convinced  that  your  hopeful  doctrine 
of  justice  is  founded  well,  in  reason  and  upon  fact,' 
although  the  forces  to  which  you  intrust  your  faith 
act  so  feebly  and  so  slowly  that  one  needs  a  pro- 
found 2)lnlosopliy  to  keep  fast  his  faithfulness  to 
them.  I  am  only  impatient  now  to  learn  how, 
and  with  what  clearness,  you  see  a  way  fa*  the 
working  of  these  just  forces  ihrough  the  prodigious 
difficulties  that  environ  them." 

"  We  have  not  come  to  the  dilluudties  yet," 
said  the  jndge.     "  We  must  determine  lirst  what 


68 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIi, 


!.-  \\ 


ought  to  be  tlic  adjnstinciit  iiiadc  between  capital 
aiul  Ja])or,  or  wliat  would  be  if  the  terms  of  their 
copartnership  in  prodiietion  were  settled  on  pui'o 
l^-ineiples  of  justice  and  ri^-ht.  Then  will  be  the 
time  to  consider  such  obstacles  as  our  doctrine  of 
justice  may  have  to  encounter  in  the  May  of  its 
realization.  AVe  cainiot  reach  that  point  to-night, 
for  it  is  late  already,  and  Ave  had  better  adjourn 
the  discussion  to  another  eveniuir." 

"  Let  it  be  soon,"  exclaimed  my  wife,  "  for  I 
want  to  know  the  difficulties.  I  feel  eager  for  the 
prevailing  of  this  doctrine  of  justice,  and  am 
anxious  to  know  how  long  the  Morld  may  have 
to  wait  for  it." 

''  It  shall  be  an  early  evening,  then,"  the  judge 
replied,  as  he  rose,  and  we  lixed  our  time  before 
he  took  his  leave. 


THIRD  EYEXmG. 

ABOUT   THE   COMPETITION   OF   FACULTIES   AMOXo' .MEN. 

Tlie  Comparative  Quality  of  "  Business  "  Faculties,  ami  tl.e  Ex- 
cessive Premiuui  i)ut  upon  them.— The  Judge's  Coi.perative 
Theory.  — Trades-Unions  and  Labor-Strikes.  — The  Preach- 
ing and  Teaching  that  neeJ  to  go  together. 

"  Xow,  judge,"  said  I,  when  wo  had  re.assoin- 
l)led,  on  the  third  eveninir,  and  after  we  liad  ex- 
cliaiiged  a  bit  or  two  of  gossip,  by  way  of  reb'sli, 
"  1  sliall  assume  to  be  the  presiding  officer  of  tin's 
august  assemblage,  and  call  to  order.     We  wMI 
take  up  the  uniinished  business  of  our  last  sitting, 
and  the  question,  I  beb'eve,  is  on  the  motion  of 
the  gentleman  from  the  iron  district,  that  we  de- 
clare those  advantages  which  the  man  of  capital 
holds  over  the  man  without  capital  to  be  rights 
which  belong  to  him,  and  which  he  may  fulh^ex- 
ereise  as  it  pleaseth  him  to  do.     Are  you  ready 
for  the  question  'i  " 

"  But,''  interposed  John,  "if  I  may  be  jiermit- 
ted  to  correct  the  speaker,  I  think  it  will  be  re- 
membered  that  T  withdrew  that  motion,  as  vou 


r 


:ii 


.|! 


•yO  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

see  fit  to  call  it,  after  listening  to  the  argument  of 
the  distinguished  gentleman  on  my  right." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  judge,  "  [  shall  be 
glad  to  have  the  question  considered  as  being  still 
before  the  house,  because  there  are  some  things 
more  to  be  noticed  before  we  dismiss  it.  I  do 
like,  however,  in  a  discussion  such  as  this,  to  be 
sure  that  we  are  keeping  step  with  each  other,  and 
that  we  understand  one  another  at  every  point  in 
our  discourse.  I  propose,  therefore,  that  we  just 
glance  back  for  a  moment,  over  the  ground  we 
have  traversed,  and  see  whether  we  entirely  agree 
in  our  conclusions." 

We  showed  our  assent,  and  the  judge  went  on  : 

"  In  order  to  be  exact,  I  have  written  a  httle 
V  '^  series-of  propositions,  which  are  the  summing  up, 
I  in  my  view,  of  the  conclusions  established  in  our 
talk  thus  far.     They  are  these  : 

"  1.  !N"o  productive  work  of  any  kind  can  now 
'  be  done,  in  most  parts  of  the  world,  withcnit  the 
help  of  capital. 

"  2.  The  men  who  have  acquired  no  capital 
are  compelled  to  solicit  that  help  by  the  most  in- 
exorable of  all  human  necessities — the  necessity 
for  bread,  clothing,  and  shelter ;  while  the  men 
who  have  acquired  capital  are  impelled  on  their 
part  to  yield  it  by  nothing  more  strenuous,  so 
far  as  circumstances  go,  than  a  selfish  motive — 
'      the  desire  for  gain. 


*    H 


Ail 


THIRD  EVENINO. 


71 


"  3.  The  relutiousliip  between  tliese  two 
classes,  therefore,  it'  nothing  intervenes,  is  one  of 
independence  on  the  side  of  capital  and  of  de- 
pendence on  the  side  of  labor,  so  that  the  former 
possesses,  to  an  a2)palling  degree,  the  j^ower  to 
deal  oppressively  with  tlie  latter. 

"  Jr.  In  the  view  to  which  political  economy  is 
restricted,  no  intervention  can  be  recognized  ;  and, 
consequently,  although  this  oppressive  power  that 
attaches  to  the  possession  of  capital  is  seldom  ex- 
ercised to  its  possible  extreme,  yet  our  prevaibng 
social  doctrines,  being  narrowed  to  the  limitations 
of  political  economy,  give  a  theoretical  sanction 
to  the  extremest  exercise  of  that  power. 

"  5.  But  there  is  nevertheless  an  intervention 
that  must  be  acknowledged,  proceeding  out  of  the 
moral  intelligence  of  society,  which  develops  rules 
of  just  conduct  in  the  place  of  rules  of  conduct 
that  are  purely  selfish. 

"  6.  This  moral  intelligence  has  now  attained 
culture  enough  to  produce  a  common  notion  of 
justice,  in  the  face  of  which  might  can  no  longer 
be  claimed  to  make  right,  no  matter  in  what  attri- 
butes the  endowment  of  miyJd  may  be  conferred. 

"7.  Hence,  even  though  the  possessors  of 
wealth  had  acquired  it  as  a  conse(|uence  of 
capabilities  m  which  they  are  superior  to  their 
fellows  who  acquire  no  wealtli,  still  the  vast  ad- 
vantage which  that  acquisition  throws  into  their 


72 


TALKS  ABOUT  LA2WR. 


hands  cannot  be  recoG-nized  as  be]on<j:ini»:  to  tlieni 
with  absohiteness  and  by  right,  to  be  exercised  at 
will,  and  under  the  dictation  of  their  self-interest 
alone. 

*'  8.  But  a  large  part  of  the  wealth  and  cap- 
ital of  the  world  is  gathered  into  the  hands  of 
its  possessors  either  by  no  active  exertion  of  any 
kind  on  their  own  part,  or  by  methods  of  acquisi- 
tion which  are  sometimes  pure  robbery  and  some- 
times removed  only  a  step  or  two  from  it ;  and, 
for  all  this  large  i)art,  even  that  claim  of  right  to 
the  advantage  which  capital  holds  over  dependent 
labor  cannot  reasonably  be  set  up. 

"  9.  On  the  whole,  therefore,  we  may  safely 
conclude  it  to  be  not  in  accordance  with  true  prin- 
ci2)les  of  justice  and  right,  that  the  terms  of  co- 
partnership in  production,  between  the  capitalist 
and  the  laborer,  should  be  left  wholly  for  settle- 
ment to  a  compi'omise  between  the  self-interest  of 
the  former  and  the  inexorable  necessities  of  the 
latter. 

"  Do  you  accept  this,"  said  the  judge,  when  he 
had  finished  reading,  "  as  a  fair  summing  up  of 
our  talk,  and  are  we  agreed  thus  far  in  our  conclu- 
slpns  ? " 

"  I  accept  and  assent,"'  said  I,  and  so  said  all 
the  company. 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  the  judge,  "  we  will 
proceed.     AVe  have  determined,  somewhat  to  our 


THIRD  EVEXIXG. 


73 


)f 


II 


11 


satisfaction,  that  tlie  capitalist  may  not  riglit fully 
exact  from  the  Lihorer  all  that  he  has  power  to 
exact,  when  the  joint  product  of  capital  and  labor 
is  divided  between  them ;  and  now,  of  course,  we 
shall  have  to  determine,  as  nearly  as  we  can,  how 
mnch  he  may  demand,  with  jnstice,  for  himself. 

"  Hut,  tirst,  I  wish  to  consider  with  you  a  little 
further,  and  just  for  a  moment,  the  question  of 
rights  between  that  wealth  which  is  actually  ac- 
quired by  superior  capability,  and  that  poverty 
which  is  the  consequence  of  a  want  of  capability. 
It  is  very  hard  for  the  human  mind,  self-environed 
as  it  is,  to  give  up  the  primitive  idea  that  a  man  is 
entitled  to  all  the  benefits  of  every  advantage  that 
he  can  get  from  better  faculties  than  his  neighbors 
have.  AVe  cannot,  therefore,  reach  too  much  dis- 
tinctness on  this  point. 

"  jS^ow,  the  faculties  which  contribute  to  suc- 
cess in  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  by  justifial)le 
methods,  are  widely  diversified  faculties  ;  but,  gen- 
erally speaking,  how  would  you  rank  them  among 
the  faculties  of  the  human  beiuii;  ?  Lookinu;  around 
among  the  men  of  your  acquaintance  who  are 
called  'successful  men,'  and  who  have  acquired 
fortune  or  pecuniary  independence  by  strictly  un- 
exceptionable means,  as  we  estimate  in  these  mat- 
ti  'S,  what  should  you  say  of  the  faculties  to  which 
their  acquisition  of  wealth  b"-  been  due?  Are 
they  of  a  highly  superior  kiui         compared  with 


V 


^y 


yA 

u 


74 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


,  ! 


i,; 


1  ! 


otlier  liiniian  faculties  wliicli  do  not  enter  into 
nioney-inakin<2j  ?" 

"  Ko,"  replied  I,  "  I  have  often  tlioiight  of  that. 
The  men  who  bring  to  Lear  in  'business,'  of  ])ro- 
ducrion  or  exchan<i:e,  any  really  superior  intellect- 
ual force,  seem  to  be  tew  —  I  mean  compara- 
tively few.  There  is  liardly  any  other  object  of 
human  exertion  that  does  not  call  out  higher 
capabilities.  I  think  it  is  rather  seldom — though 
it  sometimes  happens  —  that  a  man  who  has 
capabilities  of  the  higher  order  can  concentrate 
them  on  this  object  of  money -getting.  Their 
focus  is  not  easily  adjusted  to  it.  Jhit  it  is 
the  concentration  of  a  man's  forces  that  tells,  in 
everything ;  and  that  man,  therefore,  whose  ener- 
gies are  of  such  a  disposition  that  they  will  bend 
themselves  freely  and  fully  to  this  object,  is  the 
successful  man  in  acrpiiring  wealth,  even  though 
the  faculties  thus  compacted  may  be  inferior  to 
the  faculties  of  his  unsuccessful  neighbor.  As  a 
rule,  I  should  say — with  many  exceptions,  how- 
ever— the  money-making  faculties  and  cpialities 
are  quite  of  a  narrow  kind,  with  very  fre(pient 
littleness  and  ignobility ;  but  the  energy  in  them 
and  the  activity  behind  them  are  usually  intense. 
The  character  of  man  compounded  in  this  way  is 
an  exceedingly  useful  one,  but  not  in  the  highest 
degree  an  admirable  one." 

"  Yery  true,"  returned  the  judge,  "  and  hence 


THIRD  E  VEXING. 


76 


we  see  tliat  tlic  capaLle  powers  among  men  wliieli 
win,  in  the  one  great  struggle  that  pits  them  all 
against  each  otlier — the  struggle,  that  is,  to  eman- 
cipate  tlieniselves  from   daily  servitude  to    tlieir 
bodily  wants — are  not   necessarily,  nor  as  a  rule, 
the  higher  faculties  of  man,  nor  those  that  would 
seem  most  deserving.     On  tlie  other  hand,  a  want 
of  capahilitjMn  the  acquisition  of  wealth  is  i)lainly 
no  proof  of  an  interior  man,  nor  of  a  man  whose 
contributions  to  societv  are  of  little  worth.     The 
inventors,  the  scientific  discoverers,  the  originators 
of  new  methods  and  new  ideas,  the  path-tinders  of 
commerce,  the  philosophers,  the  poets,  the  men  of 
learning,  of  literature  and  of  art — all  the  pioneers 
and  guides  of  human  progress,  in  a  word,  are  well- 
nigh  invariably  men  who  cannot  or  do  not  get  a 
fair  share  of  the  wealth  of  the  world  in  return  for 
their  services  to  it.    It  is  almost  a  law,  in  fact,  that 
no  man   can  possess  and  exercise  any  faculty  of 
general  value  to  mankind  without  being  rendered 
nearly  impotent  so  far  as  the  gathering  of  wealth 
to  himself  is  concerned.     I  will  venture  further, 
and  say  that  it  is  a  law,  with  not  many  exceptions  ; 
it  holds  good,  you  will  find,  from  top  to  bottom 
in  the  whole  range  of  diversified  human  capabili- 
ties.   A  man  cannot  be  a  good  artisan  or  mechanic, 
in  any  kind  of  hand-labor  which  makes  the  least 
demand  upon  intelligent  faculties,  without  concen- 
trating so  much  of  all  his  powers  upon  the  imme- 


V 


76 


7'JZ/iW  ABOUT  LA  11  OR. 


t  \ 


\^ 


diate  oLjeot  of  his  lal)(>r,  that  lie  is  compe'llod  to 
trust  it.s  ultiinato  results,  so  far  as  his  own  benetit 
is  concerned,  to  other  ag-encies.  If  he  is  to  be  a 
good  workman,  he  can  withhold  from  his  "work 
neither  time  enough,  nor  thoUi;-ht  enough,  nor  will 
enough,  to  make  combinations  of  trade,  or  to  con- 
duct speculations,  or  to  organize  the  conjoining 
of  his  own  labor  with  the  labor  of  others.  All  this 
he  nnist  trust  those  whose  business  it  is,  to  do  for 
Ijim.  For  his  own  part,  he  can  only  do  good  work, 
of  the  kind  he  has  chosen  to  do,  and  deliver  it  in 
cornniission,  as  I  m;iy  say,  to  such  industrial  and 
commercial  system  as  prevails,  taking  whatever 
return  that  system  may  render  to  him.  If  this 
man  tries  to  '  make  money  '  in  any  other  way  than 
by  industriously  doing  good  work,  of  such  kind  as 
he  is  best  iitted  to  do,  it  must  be  at  the  expense  of 
his  proper  work,  and  a  certain  loss  to  the  world  of 
true,  efficient,  productive  workmanship  ensues. 

"  Do  you  not  see,  therefore,  that  an  industrial 
system  which  puts  a  great  premium  on  the  exercise 
of  those  special  but  not  eminent  faculties  that  are 
employed  in  what  v.'e  descril)e  by  the  general  term 
'business,'  is  an  economically  vicious  system,  as 
well  as  an  unjust  one  ?  In  our  use  of  the  word 
'  business,'  we  mean  by  it — 1.  The  organizing,  or 
the  effectively  putting  together,  of  the  labor  of 
different  persons,  as  in  manufactories  or  in  trans- 
portation ;   2.    Trade,  or   the  conducting  of   ex- 


TITTRD  EVEXIXG, 


i7 


cliaTi<«jos  between  dilTerent  producers,  and  between 
producers  and  non-pi»ducinu^  consumers  ;  ;>.  Fi- 
nancial business,  monetary  dealln^j^s,  tlie  mimipu- 
latiii^  of  that  movable,  current  capital  which  is 
tlie  life-blood  of  industiw  and  conunerce.  Now, 
the  faculties  that  are  em})loyed  in  these  ways  do  so 
monopolize,  under  present  conditions,  the  accpusi- 
tion  and  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  that  it  is  well- 
nii;'h  im])ossil)le  for  nu3n  to  extort  more  than  a  de- 
cent liviuii;  bv  the  employment  of  other  faculties, 
in  all  the  other  greater  iields  of  human  industry, 
intelligence,  and  energy.  Do  you  not  see  what  a 
profoundly  distracting  and  depressing  intluence 
this  exerts  upon  those  purely  productive  faculties 
which  these  'business'  faculties,  as  M'e  will  call 
them,  ought  to  be  in  cordial  and  helpful  cooper- 
ation with  ?  Do  you  not  see  that  the  men  who 
could  best  be  mechanics,  inventors,  designers,  and 
so  on,  are  under  a  perpetual  temptation  to  try  to 
be  merchants,  tradesmen,  managers  of  business, 
speculators,  and  the  like ;  while  men  who  do  be- 
come artisans  and  mechanics,  in  a  fit  calling,  are 
perpetually  drawn  away  from  a  fervent  concentra- 
tion of  themselves  upon  their  work  by  dreams  of 
easier  fortune,  and  the  contriving  of  plans  for  mak- 
ing more  gain  in  other  ways  i  " 

"I  do,  indeed,"  said  I ;  ''we  can,  none  of  us, 
help  seeing  the  effect,  for  it  is  becoming  more 
conspicuous  every  day;  and  it  is  cried  out  against 


78 


TALKS  Allol'T  LM'.oli. 


•• 


v 


every  day  vvitlioiit  hv'uv^  ri<;litly  iiiideivtood.  The 
y()un<^  men  of  suecessive  generations  neeiii  to  be- 
come more  relnctant  to  commit  themselves  to 
mechanical  callings  in  life,  or  to  directly  prodnctive 
labor  of  any  kind,  and  })rerer  to  scramble,  in 
crowds  which  p^row  greater  every  year,  for  clerk- 
ships, for  footholds  and  places  of  the  poorest  sort 
in  the  '  business '-world.  It  is  the  universal  com- 
l)laint,  too,  that  mechanic  workmanship  of  every 
kind  is  deterioratiiiii;  in  its  <piality.  it  certainly 
is  difficult,  nowadays,  to  get  good  and  thorough 
work  done  in  any  department  of  manual  industry." 
"To  be  sure,"  said  the  judge,  "and  1  am  con- 
vinced that  the  desei'tion  and  deterioration  of 
mechanical  industries  will  continue  to  be  an  in- 
creasing evil  until  we  liave  begun,  in  some  way, 
to  cut  down  the  excessive  premium  which  our 
present  adjustment  of  relationshi])s  between  capital 
and  labor  puts  upon  those  faculties  and  energies 
that  enter  into  what  wx'  distinguish  from  other 
labor  by  calling  it  'business.'  The  crowds  will 
swarm,  of  course,  where  the  prizes  are  distributed. 
So  long  as  the  substantial  rewards  of  exertion  are 
seen  to  be  displayed,  almost  entirely,  in  the  mar- 
ket-booths and  in  the  counting-houses,  in  the 
office  and  at  the  desk,  instead  of  in  the  shop  and 
at  the  work-bench,  you  may  be  sure  that  the  oiiice 
and  the  counting-house,  the  store  and  the  bank, 
will  be  mobbed  with  young  applicants;  and  you 


TIITRD  F.VEXrmL 


79 


< 


may  ho  sure,  too,  that  there  will  he  a  h)wering  of 
aii»l)itioii  aiul  a  lessening  of  spirit  in  the  work 
which  is  done  at  the  heiieh,  at  the  anvil,  and  in 
the  fai'torv.     It  cannot  he  otherwise.     All  the  in- 

« 

tluences  that  act  njion  lahor,  under  present  con- 
ditions, seem  to  me  to  be  pi'oi'oiindly  depressing*  on 
the  mechanics  and  the  o[)eratives. 

"  There  is  evidently  had  economy,  as  well  as 
injustice,  in  the  industrial  system  which  lias  tliis 
outcome.  Society  cannot  aH'ord  to  continue  ^ivin<^ 
such  excessive  encouragement  to  one  set  of  human 
faculties  as  amunst  all  the  others  which  united- 
ly  contribute  to  its  material  progress.  Sooner  or 
later  it  must  contrive  in  some  way  to  make  those 
several  faculties  which  produce,  on  one  side,  the 
skillful,  ingenious  mechanic,  the  adept  artisan,  the 
capable  clerk,  the  efficient  laborer  of  any  jjlodding 
sort,  and  which  produce,  on  the  other  side,  the 
organizer,  the  merchant,  the  financier,  the  '  num 
of  business ' — it  must  contrive  in  some  way,  I  say, 
to  make  these  several  faculties  serve  one  another 
on  fairer  terms;  to  make  them  serve  one  another 
on  tern  ^  more  nearly  proportioned  to  the  value  of 
what  they  severally  contribute  to  the  product  of 
the  whole." 

"Yes,"  said  I;  "but  how?" 

"  Ay,  there's  the  rub,"  replied  the  judge. 
"  On  principle  it  is  easy  to  tell  how,  in  general 
terms.     In  practice  it  is  not  so  easy.     I  trust  the 


80 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIl. 


growing  sense  of  justice  among  men  to  slowly 
work  the  problem  out.  There  is  only  one  course 
which  the  movement  toward  justice  in  this  matter 
can  take,  and  that  is  in  the  direction  of  estab- 
lishing a  relation  of  ])a  tnership  between  the  or- 
ganizers of  labor  on  one  hand  and  the  laborers  on 
the  other,  to  supplant  the  rude  relationship  in 
which  they  now  stand  toward  each  other  as  '  em- 
ployers'  and  '  em[)loyes.'  Employers  and  em- 
ployes !  These  very  terms  are  significant  of  the 
arbitrariness  of  the  system  which  they  represent. 
In  the  fair  sense  of  that  word,  the  mechanic  in  a 
shop,  or  the  so-called  0})erative  in  a  factory,  may 
just  as  truly  be  said  to  '  employ'  the  ca2)italist-pro- 
prietor  of  the  factory  or  the  shop  to  organize  the 
etfectiv^e  combination  of  his  special  work  with  the 
work  of  his  fellovrs,  and  to  make  the  exchange  of 
products  for  him,  as  the  proprietor  may  be  said  to 
employ  Idm  to  do  ^  special  work  which  he  does. 
The  dilference  betv>een  them  in  the  matter  of  em- 
ploying each  other's  services  is  jnst  that  mIucIi 
gro\  "s  out  of  a  state  of  dependence  on  one  side 
ar.d  of  independence  on  the  other  side,  whereby 
all  the  reciprocity  of  interest  under  which  these 
two  men,  with  their  differing  faculties,  ought  to 
be  brought  to  act  together,  and  to  serve  and  assist 
one  another  in  the  great  nndertakings  of  human 
labor,  is  extinguislied.  One  becomes  actually  the 
*  em2)loy(3r,'  and  one  the  '  employed,'   instead  of 


THIRD  EVEXIXG. 


81 


% 


eacli  being  the  employer  of  tlic  ca]mbilities  of  tlie 
other  on  fairly-adjusted  terms.  One  receives  his 
daily  rate  of  wages,  fixed  for  the  most  part  l)y  the 
average  state  of  need  in  his  class ;  the  other  makes 
what  he  can  out  of  the  bargain,  and  drives  it  hard 
to  make  the  utmost.  It  is  very  plain  to  me  that 
no  equity  in  the  partitioning  of  the  products  of 
human  industry  can  be  had  under  the  wages  system 
that  we  now  maintain  ;  under  the  system,  that  is, 
which  gives  a  fixed  com])ensation  to  one  side,  while 
protits,  indefinite,  unshared  and  unaccounted  for, 
go  wholly  to  the  other." 

"•  What,  then,"  I  asked,  "  can  take  the  place 
of  the  '  wages  system  ? '  Do  you  look  to  the  '  co- 
operative  system  '  for  your  remedy  ? " 

''  Xo,  I  do  not,"  returned  t^-e  jr.dge  ;  ''  if  you 
mean  that  plan  of  association  among  woi'king-men 
inwliich  tliey  undertake  to  conduct  for  themselves 
the  business  incident  to  their  own  work.  I  do 
not  expect  much  from  that  '  cooperative  system,' 
notwithstanding  the  remarkal)le  successes  it  has 
shown  at  Ilochdale  and  in  other  insta.ices,  both  iu 
England  and  on  the  C(mtinent.  It  is  an  attempt 
on  the  part  of  men  who  represent  the  nuichanical, 
constructive,  i)roducing  faculties,  to  dis],ense  with 
the  cor)i)eration  of  men  who  represent  the  organ- 
izing, combining,  e)nunercial  faculties,  and  I  hold 
that  these  two  sets  of  faculties  are  indispen«ible 
to  one  another.     The  mechanic  woikin<j:-man  a^- 


82  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

most  always,  under  present  conditions,  is  a  work- 
inp^-man,  in  tlie  received  sense  of  tlie  word,  simply 
because  lie  lias  no  a])titude  nor  trainings  for  the 
shrewd  arithmetic  of  commerce,  and  competes  at 
a  disadvantage,  for  that  reason,  in  the  scrambling 
division  of  worldly  goods.  Xow  it  is  clearly  im- 
possible for  a  number  of  men  in  this  luckless 
strait  to  gain  much  by  going  into  league  with  one 
another,  to  make  a  common  cause  of  the  common 
disadvantage  under  which  they  are  struggling. 
You  surely  cannot  evolve  such  a  thing  as  a  cor- 
porate capal)ility  for  trafi  .■  or  industrial  mannge- 
ment  by  any  conceivalile  multiplication  together 
of  individual  incapabilities.  You  may  put  six- 
pences and  shillings  enough  together  to  form  the 
capital  that  will  create  and  sustain  an  iron  foun- 
dery  or  a  cotton-mill ;  but  in  a  body  of  men  whose 
efficient  faculty  of  accumulation  is  limited  to  the 
mere  saving  of  sixpences  and  shillings,  where  are 
you  going  to  find,  or  how  are  you  going  to  de- 
velop, the  faculty  that  can  handle  such  a  capital 
and  work  profitable  results  out  of  it?  This  '  co- 
operative '  theory  of  industrial  reform  is  totally 
fallacious,  in  my  judgment,  because  it  makes  no 
account  of  the  competition  of  fa^^ulties  out  of 
whif^h  the  whole  problem  arises.  As  I  look  at 
the  matter,  the  only  cooperation  that  can  possibly 
achieve  any  equitable  social  change  is  coiipera- 
tion  between  the  faculties  of  the  artisan  and  the 


THIRD  E  VEXING. 


83 


faculties  of  tlie  man  of  business,  established  upon 
any  terms  that  sluill  make  a  common  cause  be- 
tween them,  in  phice  of  the  competition  and  an- 
tai^onism  to  wliicli  they  are  necessarily  committed 
under  our  2)resent  industrial  system.  That  is 
what  I  mean  when  I  speak  of  the  organization  of 
capital  and  labor  upon  a  footing  of  copartnership. 
"Mind  you,  I  do  not  claim  an  ecpial  copart- 
nership; for  ecpiity  and  ecpiality,  as  I  have  said 
Ijefore,  are  two  very  dilferent  thiugs.  I  am  not  a 
communist,  nor  an  agrarian,  nor  a  social  revolu- 
tionist of  any  sort.  I  do  not  want  to  abolish 
property,  nor  riches,  nor  povx'rty  even,  so  far  as 
povei'ty  is  a  just  conserpience  of  the  ineiHcient 
or  luifaithful  performance  of  a  man's  part  in  tlie 
work  of  the  world.  Ivpiality  of  goods  I  have  no 
wish  to  see  brought  about ;  I  would  not  have  it 
in  society  if  I  could.  All  that  I  contend  for,  as 
l)eing  necessary  to  justice  between  the  working- 
man  and  the  business-man — between  the  laborer 
and  the  capitalist — is  that  fundamental  equality  of 
footing,  in  their  relations  to  one  another,  which 
the  terms  of  any  sort  of  copartnership  between 
them  will  establish,  no  matter  how  insiii:nificant 
at  first  may  be  the  benefit  to  the  former.  ^Vnv- 
thing,  to  begin  with,  that  will  engraft  a  different 
princij)le  upon  this  wages  system  of  ours,  under 
which  men  are  mere  marketa])le  machines  for 
such  and  such  work,  selling  themselves  by  the  day 


i  ' 


\  \ 


84 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOE. 


or  the  year,  instead  of  being  sold  Tji*  a  lifetime  as 
the  slaves  were.'' 

"  I  suppose,  tbeii,"  said  I,  "  tliat  you  liope  for 
the  success  and  spi'ead  of  the  experiment  which 
lias'  already  been  somewhat  tried,  in  a  few  pro- 
prietary industrial  establishments,  of  making  divi- 
dends from  the  annual  profits  of  the  concern  to 
the  working-men  employed  'i " 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  hope.  These  experhnents 
furnish  proof,"  continued  the  judge,  "  that  some 
consciousness  of  the  inecpiity,  and  some  percep- 
tion of  the  vicious  economy  of  the  prevailing 
wages  system,  have  begun  to  be  awakened,  and  I 
am  conlident  that  both  the  moral  feeling  and  the 
enlightened  judgment  which  are  to  condemn  that 
system  will  gain  a  steady  growth.  I  am  not  at  all 
surprised  that  these  experiments  in  the  organizing 
of  a  partnership  between  the  working-men  and 
the  managing  capitalist,  who  supplies  and  directs 
their  work,  have  sometimes  failed.  AVe  are  sure 
to  hear  more  of  the  failures  than  of  the  successes, 
and,  although  some  of  them  may  belong  in  the 
ordinary  category  of  business  failures,  conserpient 
upon  adverse  times  or  unsound  management,  they 
are  naturally  enough  all  charged  against  the  ex- 
periment to  which  they  are  incident.  In  many 
cases,  without  doubt,  the  faihire  is  rightly  so 
chai-ged.  There  is  much  to  be  pi'actically  learned 
before  a  successful  adjustment  of  dividends  from 


THIRD  EVEXIXO. 


85 


tlieir  joint  production  can  he  made  between  labor 
and  capital,  and  between  the  laborer  and  tlie  man- 


ager. 


''  The  working-men  have  mnch  to  learn.  I  am 
not  blind  at  all  to  the  obstacles  which  their  preva- 
lent ignorance  of  the  conditions  of  production 
and  trade,  and  their  characteristic  inaptitude  for 
knowledge  or  appreciation  of  what  we  call  busi- 
ness affairs,  throw  in  the  way  of  a  reformation  of 
the  industrial  system.  There  are  comparatively 
few  among  them  who  apprehend  in  the  slightest 
degree  the  just  merits  of  their  own  canse.  Their 
demands  and  their  whole  attitude,  tfdving  them  as 
a  Q^diZ%;  are  generally  unreasoning  and  provocative 
of  the  very  antagonism  by  which  they  are  wj'onged. 
I  quite  believe  that  the  seltislmess  of  capital  can 
more  easily  be  overcome  than  this  blind  unreason 
on  the  labor-side.  It  will  resist  with  less  obsti- 
nacy, perhaps,  the  generous,  harmonizing  forces 
that  are  at  work  in  human  culture.  But  I  know 
that  those  forces  are  invincible,  and  that  they  will 
have  their  way  in  the  end.  It  is  but  a  question 
of  time.  The  ferment  of  the  age  compels  all 
men  to  learn.  The  capitalist,  on  his  part,  will 
learn  the  wisdom  of  magnanimity  in  using  his 
power — the  expediency  of  justice  ;  and  the  work- 
ing-man, on  his  part,  will  learn  to  understand  the 
conditions  by  which  production  is  governed,  and 
to  estimate  his  dues  from  it  by  some  logical  reck- 


86 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


ouin<j^.  But  he  iiiay  have  to  kuirn  thr()ii<j,h  bitter 
teachings  of  experience,  as  I  fear  tliat  lie  must, 
because  his  chiss  is  being  blindly  led  now  into  a 
conHict  with  the  very  laws  of  industrial  econorny, 
under  whicli  its  own  rights  must  be  adjudicated 
and  established." 

"I  begin  to  sec,  sir,"  remarked  Jolm,  "that 
your  views  are  not  so  radically  extreme  as  they 
seemed  to  be  at  first.  The  '  labor  question,'  as 
you  look  at  it,  holds  itself  (]uite  above  the  issues 
that  are  nowadavs  bein<»:  raised  in  the  industrial 
world  between  labor  and  capital,  and  you  do  not 
sympathize,  1  take  it,  with  the  '  trades-union ' 
combinations,  which  interfere  so  mischievously 
with  almost  every  important  branch  of  productive 
enterprise." 

"  Yes,  I  do  sympathize  with  them,"  said  the 
judge,  "  in  a  sorrowful  way.  I  sympathize  deejdy 
with  the  discontented  feeling,  on  the  part  of  the 
working-class,  out  of  which  they  spring,  and  it  is 
very  sad  to  me  to  see  these  people,  who  have  be- 
come conscious  that  there  is  something  wrong  in 
their  relations  to  the  industry  to  which  they  con- 
tribute, misconceiving  so  entirely  the  nature  of  the 
wrong  and  aggravating  it  by  mistaken  means  of 
remedy.  They  organize  a  revolt  against — they 
know  not  what.  Xot  against  the  wages  system, 
for  they  affirm  that,  and  confirm  it,  and  rivet  upon 
themselves  by  ever}-  measure  which  they  adopt. 


TIIIliD  EVEXIXG. 


8" 


They  exert  their  combined  iiiHueuce  to  suppress 
the  iudividuahzation  of  skill  and  faculty,  which 
would  tend,  in  a  powerful  wav,  to  break  down  the 
systematic  fixity  of  tlils  wages-paying  custom. 
They  level  down  to  one  mean  average  all  the  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  the  elKcient  value  of  Ld)or  which 
they  severally  represent  in  their  several  trades; 
and  such  an  av^erage  is  sure  tol)e  depressed  toward 
the  minimum  extreme,  by  the  least  skillful,  the 
least  conscientious,  the  least  intelligent  labor  in 
every  trade.  It  is  pitiful  to  see  the  mistake  which 
so  many  of  the  working-men  make  in  their  trades- 
unions,  when  they  cond)ine  to  enforce  and  main- 
tain any  uniform  rate  of  wages,  and  so  suppress, 
as  far  as  possible,  among  themselves,  all  competi- 
tive ambition — all  competition  of  faculty  and  spirit 
in  their  own  ranks.  Wy  this  course  they  leave 
little  inducement  for  anv  workin<j:-uian  to  excel 
in  his  work,  either  through  the  acfpiirement  of 
knowledii'e  and  skill,  or  throuii'h  industrial  con- 
scientiousness.  So  far  as  they  can,  they  put  the 
most  skilled  and  most  efficient  workman  upon  the 
same  footing  with  the  laziest,  the  most  careless 
and  tlie  least  capable.  It  is  a  woful  mistake  in 
it^  eil'ect  upon  the  character  of  the  working-class, 
and  therefore  in  its  eil'ect  upon  the  standing  and 
strength  and  social  condition  of  the  class." 

"  J3ut  is  that  the  worst  mistake  of  the  trades- 
unions  ? "'  a«ked  I. 


V 


88 


TALKS  AJJOUT  LAIUJR, 


I 


"  Yei=!,"  replied  tlie  jinl^L-'e,  "  because  it  is  tlieir 
finidiimeiilal  ini.-take.  Almost  everytliiiig  else 
M'li it'll  they  wroiiii'lv  do  originates*  iu  this  and 
forms  part  of  it.  There  is  more  than  a  mistake  in 
some  of  their  measures  ;  there  is  the  nature  of 
crime.  There  is  a  crinunal  violation  of  their  ow  n 
industrial  rights  :  as  Avlien  they  undertake,  for  ex- 
ample, hy  their  rules  and  by  the  intiuential  jjower 
of  their  eombiiuition,  to  restrict  the  liberty  which 
belongs  to  each  man  to  control  the  disjiosition  of 
liis  own  labor  ;  wlien  thev  assume  to  dictate  to 
their  members  the  terms  upon  Mhich  each  one 
sh;dl  work,  and  to  sav  when  and  where  and  how 
he  shall  accept  employment,  and  when  and  where 
and  how  he  shall  not :  also,  when  they  assume 
to  k'gislatc  for  any  branch  of  industry  concerning 
its  hours  of  labor,  the  number  of  apprentices  or 
pui)ils  that  shall  be  annually  received  into  its 
several  establishments,  aiul  other  matters  of  that 
sort,  t(»uching  which  there  can  be  no  conceivable 
ri<>'ht  of  interference  with  individual  liberty  lodged 

O  I/O 

anywhere,  neither  in  an^^  particular  l)<)dy  of  men 
nor  in  the  whole  body  of  society.  I  would  not 
have  much  intervention  of  law  in  dealing  with 
matters  pertaining  to  the  organization  and  regu- 
lation of  the  industrial  system  of  a  country,  but  I 
would  have  all  such  interferences  with  individual 
freedom  as  these,  whether  b^-  combinations  on  the 
side  of  labor  or  on  the  side  of  capital,  rigorously 


TiriUD  EVEXrXG. 


80 


Bn])prcsso(l,  by  stniigciit  prolilbitioiis  of  law,  strin- 
i,^Giitlv  enforeed/' 

*'  And  wliat  of  labor  '  strikes,'  "  said  I ;  ''  bow 
do  you  regard  tliein  ?  " 

"  I  can  only  coudenm  1110111,''  replied  tlie  judge, 
"  so  far  as  tliey  ai'c  cocreively  organized.  It  is 
assuredly  every  man's  right  to  refuse  to  labor  for 
another,  or  in  cooperation  with  another,  if  the 
terms  proposed  are  not  satisfactory  to  him  ;  pro 
vided  he  can  alford  to  refuse,  and  does  not  make 
himself  dependent  upon  the  charity  of  his  fe-P.ows 
for  support  by  refusing.  It  is  erpially  the  right 
of  a  number  of  men  to  voluntarily  combine  in  re- 
fusing  to  work  on  given  terms,  if  they  are  unitedly 
able  to  support  themselves  for  a  certain  time  with- 
out work ;  and  it  is  their  right  under  many  cir- 
cumstances to  make  the  pressure  of  their  absten- 
tion from  work  bear  as  hard  as,  by  voluntary 
un'on,  it  can  be  made  to  bear  upon  the  interests 
of  employing  capital,  for  the  purpose  of  extorting 
better  terms.  But  there  are  not  many  labor- 
strikes,  I  think,  in  which  coercion  of  some  sort  is 
not  employed  to  bring  about  the  union  of  those 
who  take  part  in  it.  A  few  restless,  dominating 
spirits  get  leadership  in  the  matter,  by  sheer  dog- 
matic and  dictatorial  force,  and  a  most  tyrannical 
constraint  is  often  exercised  upon  the  minority,  if 
not  upon  the  majority,  of  the  members  of  the  in- 
dustrial organization    concerned.     The   workman 


V 


90  TALK.^  A  no  FT  L.\]}OIi. 

wlio  prefers  to  contimie  in  eiiiplovinent  on  tlie  ex- 
istin<^  terms,  nitlier  tlian  become  idle,  or  avIio  feels 
tluit  lie  cannot  alFord  to  snrrender  emplovment,  and 
tliattlie  sntl'ei'ing  to  be  imjjosed  npon  liis  family  by 
Buch  surrender  involves  a  deeper  wrontij  than  the 
one  against  which  he  is  asked  to  array  himself  in 
revolt,  iinds  usually  among  his  associates  in  his 
own  class  no  toleration  -whatever  of  his  ])ersonal 
I'ights,  interests,  or  convictions  of  dnty.  His  claim 
to  individual  freedom  of  action  is  resented  and  re- 
sisted with  all  the  tremendous  forces  of  hostility 
and  o])presslon  which  any  class  organization  cau 
bring  to  bear  ui)on  its  mem])ers.  Jf  he  does  not 
suQ'er  personal  violence  from  his  fellows,  as  he 
very  often  does,  he  suifers  a  jiersecuting  ostracism 
which  is  even  harder  to  bear  up  against.  It  is 
by  such  coercion,  I  think,  that  most  'strikes'  are 
brought  about,  and  they  are  gcnei'ally  more  ty- 
rannical and  more  cruel,  I  am  afraid,  than  the 
wrongs  in  wages-paying  which  they  undertake  to 
redress.  The  men  who  set  them  on  foot  seein  to 
be  commonly  of  the  mischief-making  sort — dis- 
turl)ers,  agitators,  demagogues.  They  are  men  of 
an  energetic  and  combative  disposition,  without 
much  judgment,  and  without  much  scruple,  some- 
times. They  love  strife  and  curbulence  ;  they  find 
their  c<mgenial  element  in  such  a  state  of  things, 
and  they  gain  some  importance  when  they  bring  it 
about.     Such  men  are  no  doubt  actuated  more  by 


Till  HI)  F.VKS^rNG. 


91 


vanity  and  hy  tholr  apinjtite  for  controversy  than 
tliey  are  by  any  intelli^u'ent  sense  of  rii^'hts  and 
wroiiijrs,  or  bv  anv  conscientions  solicitude  for  the 
interests  of  tlie  vvorkiiiif-class.     Tliev  do  not  rcn- 

Oil 

resent  the  judi;'nient  or  the  feelini:;  of  that  class, 
and  3'et  the  imperious,  combative  energy  which 
tliey  possess  wins  for  them  a  kind  of  leadersiiip  in 
it  that  is  nndoubtediv  mischievous.  The  same 
kind  of  fact  exhibits  itself  in  every  department  of 
society — conspicuously  in  its  political  formations, 
where  the  positive,  dogmatic,  aggressive,  and  not 
very  scruj)ulons  politicians  are  apt  to  override  bel- 
ter counsels  in  public  alfalrs  and  have  their  way. 
It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  labor-strikes  are 
commonly  miscalculated  and  mistimed  ;  that  they 
are  so  often  aggressive  rather  than  defensive  ;  that 
there  is  so  often  more  of  malice  than  of  self-asser- 
tion in  tlieir  spirit ;  that  they  arc  so  often  aimed 
at  niischief  to  tlic  capitalist  rather  than  benefit  to 
the  laborer  ;  that  they  so  often  represent  a  fatuous 
revolt  against  the  fundamental  laws  of  production 
and  exchange,  and  that  their  eifect  so  often  is  lo- 
cally destructive  or  injurious  to  the  industries  in 
which  thev  occur.  Theoretical Iv,  the  labor-strike 
is  a  legitimate  measure  of  self-defense  and  self- 
assertion  on  the  part  of  the  laboring-class  against 
tlie  managing-capitalist  class,  nnder  their  present 
relations  to  one  another  ;  but,  practically,  I  am 
afrai<l,  it  is  a  measure  seldom  wisely  or  honestly 
res(jrted  to." 


V 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 

(  716)  872-4503 


i 


w  „  ^^ 


92  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

"  I  tliiiik  tluit  is  true,"  remarked  Jolm^  "  and 
the  workiufr-nieii  seem  to  exliibit  just  asmiidi  of 
a  disposition  to  use  their  opportunities  agaiiist 
capital  in  a  grinding,  oppressive,  and  aggressive 
,  y  way,  as  tlie  capitalists  do,  on  their  side,  to  make  a 
hard  use  of  the  advantages  which  they  hohl  over 
labor.  They  do  it  with  less  judgment,  too,  and 
with  a  kind  of  vindictiveness  which  does  not  ap- 
pear on  the  other  side.  They  so  often  organize 
their  strikes  in  some  department  of  production 
just  when  the  investors  of  capital  in  that  depart- 
ment are  struggling  h.'ird  against  adverse  condi- 
tions in  it,  and  make  demands  which  all  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  market  then  surrounding  the 
particular  industry  in  question  render  it  wholly 
impossible  to  accede  to.  At  other  times  they  fatu- 
ously serve  the  selfish  interests  of  their  employers, 
by  interrupting  some  industry  which  the  capital- 
ists engaged  in  it  are  very  glad  to  have  suspended, 
so  that  there  seems  to  be  good  reason,  in  frequent 
cases,  for  suspecting  that  the  employers  have  se- 
cretly instigated  the  strike,  and  thus  have  brought 
about  a  check  upon  production  without  responsi- 
bility or  cost  to  themselves.  It  is  hardly  to  be 
wondered  at  that  this  blindness  and  folly  and  mis- 
chievous disposition  in  the  laboring-classes  loses 
sympathy  for  them  among  intelligent  lookers  on, 
and  produces  an  antagonistic  feeling  in  the  ranks 
of  the  employing  capitalists." 


TUIRD  EYEXIXG.  93 

"No,"  s.'iid  tlie  jndiro,  "it  is  all  natural 
enouii'li,  and  that  is  the  troublesome  feature  of 
the  problem  in  its  present  stage.  The  meaner 
parts  of  human  nature  are  involved  on  both  sides 
of  it.     There  is  just  as  much  selfishness  and  just  \j 

as  much  narrow  one-sidedness  of  consideration  on 
the  part  of  the  laborers  as  there  is  on  the  part  of 
the  ca])italists,  with  more  ignorance,  but  with  less 
power.  I  give  attention  chielly  to  those  wrongs 
in  the  relationship  between  the  two  which  the 
capitalists  and  managers  of  our  industrial  organi- 
zation are  responsible  for,  because  they  represent 
the  stronger  side.  They  hold  the  power,  so  much 
more  than  the  others  do,  to  act  wrongfully,  and 
their  duty  is  commensurate  with  their  power. 
Between  two  parties,  in  any  system  of  wrongs, 
the  movement  of  redress  anel  remedy  must  come 
from  the  stronger  one.  The  most  potent  moral 
influence  in  the  world  is  that  of  magnanimity  ]>ro- 
ceeding  out  of  power,  and  we  must  invoke  that 
in  this  matter  before  anv  solution  of  the  ])roblem 
can  be  possible.  Let  the  managers  and  holders  of 
capital  begin  to  acknowledge  that  the  measure  of 
their  power  is  not  the  measure  of  their  just  rights,  ■"•  , 
bv  beji'inninf*:  to  associate  the  workiuij-mcn  in  in- 
terest  with  them,  under  some  system  of  ]>artner- 
ship,  with  some  system  of  dividends  introduced  to 
su})[>lcment  the  wages  system — and  the  moment 
thev  do  this,  I  know  that  the  workiny:-men  will  be- 


94 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


gin  to  be  inquisitive  for  tliemsolves  about  the  cir- 
cumstances and  conditions  on  which  their  several 
industries  depend.  Tliey  will  begin  to  observe  and 
apprehend  the  phenomena  of  the  market,  out  of 
which  the  laws  of  industrial  economy  are  deduced. 
They  will  begin  to  understand  better  the  terms  on 
which  their  particular  labor  is  associated  with  all 
other  labor  in  the  industrial  organization  of  the 
civilized  world.  They  will  do  so  on  account  of 
having  become  partners  instead  of  servitors  in  the 
several  industries,  by  virtue  of  which  change  they 
will  have  necessarily  acquired  an  in(le])endent 
personal  interest  in  such  matters  of  knowledge. 
They  must  then  be  inspired  by  every  personal 
motive  to  act  in  cooperation  with  the  managers  of 
capital,  in  their  several  branches  of  productive  in- 
dustry, and  the  desire  to  cooperate  will  be  effec- 
tive in  promoting  their  intelligence. 

"  This  industrial  reform  is  one  in  which  there 
must  be  preaching  as  well  as  teaching,  and  the 
preaching  comes  lirst  in  importance  ;  wherefore  I 
prefer  now  to  act  the  preacher.  Political  economy 
alone  is  not  enough,  as  I  have  said  before.  Social 
ethics  has  quite  as  much  to  do  with  the  (question, 
if  not  more.  AVe  must  preach  the  doctrine  of 
justice,  as  well  as  teach  the  laws  of  production 
and  trade. 

"  It  will  not  do  much  good  to  go  to  the  trades- 
union  with  instructions  in  political  economy,  so 


THIRD   E  VEXING.  95 

lonjr  as  its  memLers  are  made  distrustful  of  all 
your  formulas  by  a  vague  and  rankling  conscious- 
ness of  sonietliinu;  arbitrary  in  tbe  system  of  tlie 
division  of  industrial  products,  wbich  political 
economy  gives  countenance  to.  We  must  first 
root  out  of  public  sentiment  the  old  barbaric  no- 
tion that — 

'  lie  may  take  who  has  the  power, 
And  he  may  keep  who  can.' 

"We  must  root  it  ont  just  as  completely  with  ref- 
erence to  the  po^yer  which  attaches  to  wealth,  to 
possessory  rights,  to  superior  mercantile  facul- 
ties, and  to  su];)erior  opportunities  in  acquisition, 
as  we  have  already  rooted  it  out,  among  civilized 
men,  with  reference  to  the  brute  power  which  be- 
longed of  old  to  bodily  strength  and  baronial  cas- 
tles, to  the  lance,  the  sword,  and  the  coat  of  mail. 
We  must  educate  public  opinion  to  recognize  just 
rights  in  the  matter  which  law  cannot  enforce,  but 
which  its  own  silent  legislation  may  affirm  and 
make  good. 

"  Then  political  economy  may  hope  to  win  the 
ear  of  the  working-man  and  reach  his  understand- 
ing. Then  the  trades-union  may  be  made  to  be- 
come a  powerful  organism  in  the  industrial  world, 
and  be  brought  out  of  conflict  into  cooperation 
with  capital,  in  the  productive  enterprises  of  soci- 
ety.    The  guilds  of  the  mediieval  craftsmen  were 


96 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


s    • 


institutio'iis  of  splendid  usefulness  in  many  re- 
spects. The  modern  trades-unions  may  be  the 
same,  and  more,  in  much  the  same  direction.  I 
look  forward  to  the  time  when  they  will  be  en- 
couraged to  take  upon  themselves  the  responsible 
guardianship  of  all  the  interests  of  the  mechanic 
industries — each  its  own  ;  fixing  and  maintaining 
a  high  standard  of  excellence  in  workmanship  for 
every  trade ;  graduating  the  mechanics  in  their 
several  arts  and  conferring  diplomas  and  degrees, 
as  the  colleges  do,  with  such  strictness  and  fairness 
and  authority  that  the  classifications  of  the  union 
or  guild  shall  be  recognized  in  the  labor-market ; 
opening  their  doors  to  all  new-comers  widely, 
without  any  bars  except  such  as  these  standards  of 
proficiency  will  set  up ;  aiming  to  individualize — 
not  generalize — the  compensation  of  labor  in  each 
department  of  work,  by  individualizing  the  labor 
itself ;  looking  always  to  the  efficiency,  the  skill, 
the  productive  vahic,  of  each  man's  work  for  the 
basis  of  the  apportionment  of  dividends  to  him 
from  the  production  to  which  he  contributes. 

"  You  may  say  that  I  am  visionary ;  but  re- 
member that  I  am  only  trying  to  define  the  state 
of  things  which  must  be  brought  about,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  if  the  just  harmony  of  rights  and  interests 
between  labor  and  capital  is  ever  to  be  attained. 
I  do  not  expect  it  very  soon.  I  am  not  sure  that 
we  are  within  ten  centuries  of  it  yet.     I  am  not 


THIRD  EYEmNG. 


n 


sure,  in  fact,  that  it  will  ever  be  reached.  But  I 
do  have  a  strong  faitli,  nevertheless,  in  the  final 
completeness  of  the  evohition  of  justice  anion^r 
men,  before  human  history  ends,  and  I  am  willing 
to  be  called  visionary  in  that,  if  you  please  to  con- 
sider  me  so.'* 

^      The  judge  rose  as  he  finished  speaking,  and 
m  his  prompt  way,  took  leave  of  us  for  the  even- 
mg,  so  that  we  had  no  opportunity  to  reply  to  his 
last  remarks. 


J> 


FOURTE  EYEXIXG. 


ABOUT   THE   JUST   CLAMS   OF   LABOR. 


The  Increase  of  Prodiu-tion  within  a  Century  past.— The  Judge's 
Erithnates. — Macliine-Labor  and  its  Results. — The  Working- 
man's  Measure  of  Gain. — Wasteful  Consumption.— What  it 
is  and  what  Kind  of  Waste  can  be  socially  restrained. — Tiie 
Sources  of  Increase  to  the  Capital  P'und,  and  of  Increased 
Dividends  to  Labor. 

AViiEN  tlie  judge  came  lie  was  a  little  late,  and 
excused  liiuiself  by  saying  tliat  lie  bad  taken  time 
to  look  up  a  few  passages  in  tbe  political  econo- 
mists, toucbing  points  wbieb  be  tbougbt  we  sbould 
now  bave  to  consider,  and  especially  witb  refer- 
ence to  tbe  so-called  "  wages-funJ,"  by  wbicb  tbe 
compensation  of  labor  is  said  to  be  limited. 

I  laugbed  at  tbis,  and  rubbed  my  bands  witb 
some  sbow  of  glee.  "  Now  you  are  coming  to 
bard  work,  judge,"  said  I.  "  I  bave  been  tliink- 
ing  of  tbe  rougb  road  tbat  we  sbould  put  you 
upon  wben  we  began  to  ask  questions,  as  to  tbe 
source  from  wbieb  you  expect  to  derive  a  substan- 
tial and  permanent  increase  of  dividends  to  tbe 
laboring-men  of  all  classes.     If  tbere  is  any  sure 


FO URlll  E vEyixa. 


99 


fact  ill  political  economy,  I  should  say  it  is  that 
which  is  stated  in  the  description  of  what  is  called 
the  '  wag-es-fuiid  : '  the  fact,  namely,  that  at  any 
given  time  there  is  a  certain  tolerahly  dctinite  a]>- 
propriation  made  out  of  the  accumulations  from 
past  labor  to  maintain  present  production  ;  that 
there  cannot  be  divided  anion^  the  producing  la- 
borers of  that  time,  either  in  wages  or  otherwise, 
anything  exceeding  this  appropriatioii,  and  that 
their  several  shares  from  it  nnist  be,  on  the  aver- 
age, according  to  the  proportion  between  their 
total  numbers  and  the  total  sum.  How  can  it  be 
otherwise  ?  I  do  not  see  that  you  can  put  any 
moral  restraint,  any  more  than  you  can  put  a  legal 
restraint,  upon  unproductive  consunii)tion.  If 
vou  are  able  to  make  it  a  matter  of  recoirnized 
duty  that  no  man  shall  profligately  and  wastefully 
consume  the  products  of  labor  in  idle  luxurv,  vou 
cannot  define  the  duty.  You  caimot  mark  })oints 
where  it  begins  and  where  it  ends.  You  camiot 
even  define  for  any  one  producing  member  of  so- 
ciety a  limit  of  productive  consumption,  beyond 
which  his  consumption  shall  be  set  down  as  ini- 
productive.  The  food,  the  clothing,  and  the  shel- 
ter of  the  producer  belong,  of  course,  within  the 
range  of  his  productive  consumption  ;  but  what 
kind  of  food  I — what  kiiul  of  clothing  ? — what 
kind  of  shelter  \  What  latitude  of  selection  and 
variation  shall  he  have  within  recoa'nized  bounds 


100 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


of  prodiu'tive  C(msunii)tion  ?  Aiul  tlien  Lis  educa- 
tion Hiid  Ills  culture  are  just  as  niucli  objects  of  pro- 
ductive consumption  as  the  fecdiujL!;  and  i)rotecting 
of  his  body  are,  because  they  contribute  to  liis  pro- 
ductive etticiency  and  capacity.  How  much  shall  be 
allowed  for  these  ?  How  much  schooling  '{  llow 
many  books  i  How  mucl'  travel  i  How  much 
leisure  for  observation  and  comparison  ?  How 
much  recreation  to  preserve  the  elasticity  of  his 
energies?  How  much  exercise  of  hospitality? 
How  many  household  conveniences,  and  retine- 
ments,  and  adornments  ?  How  many  artistic  indul- 
gences  ?  How  much  gratification  of  rational 
tastes  ?  Where  shall  we  say  that  productive  con- 
sum])tion  ends,  in  his  case,  and  unproductive  eon- 
sumption  begins  ?  AVe  caimot  say.  It  must  be 
impossible,  therefore,  to  define  any  rule  of  duty 
for  governing  the  consumption  of  the  products  of 
labor.  The  broad  rule  which  condemns  jM'ofligacy 
and  wastefulness  cannot  be  reduced  to  a  definite 
standard.  Those  who  command  possession  of  the 
products  of  labor  are  left  substantially  free  to  eon- 
Hunie  them  as  they  please.  The  share  which  they 
will  reserve  from  their  personal  consumption,  year 
by  year,  and  dedicate  to  renewed  production,  must 
depend  upon  the  inducements  to  accumulation  by 
which  they  are  acted  on  ;  and  those  inducements 
are  very  nearly  constant  in  their  influence  upon 
men  in  a  given  state  of  civilization.     I  do  not  see 


FO  UR  Til  E  \  'EXIXa. 


101 


how  we  can  materially  stivni^tlieu  thein,  or  mate- 
rially au^i;meiit  their  elTirt ;  and  I  do  not  see, 
therefore,  how  we  can  hrinjj:  about  anv  consider- 
able  increment  of  the  '  wa<:;es-fnnd,'  or  the  capital 
out  of  which  labor  is  to  be  i)ai(l,  ])ropor(ionately 
to  the  nnml)er  of  those  wlio  have  to  draw  their 
conj[)enstition  from  it.  If  you  can  tell  me,  my 
dear  judjjje,  pray  do  so  at  once,  for  I  am  impatient 
to  learn/' 

''  I  must  admit,"  replied  the  judt^e,  "  that  this 
is  no  easy  i)art  of  our  sultject  which  we  are  ap- 
proachin^ij  now.  We  are  coming  into  fo^j^s  that 
are  sometimes  pretty  thick.  I  have  groped  in 
them,  and  stumbled  and  traveled  round  and  round 
in  bewilderment  without  midvini»;  headway,  a  m'idat 
many  times.  ]»ut  I  think  that  if  we  use  our  eyes 
steadily  we  can  gather  some  light  out  of  the  murky 
confusion  to  guide  us,  nevertheless. 

"  The  first  thing  to  be  certain  about,  no  doubt, 
is  whether  labor  has  or  has  not  become  productive 
enough  to  furnish  the  means  for  any  considerable 
increase  of  dividends  to  labor,  without  resorting 
to  communism,  or  the  equal  partitioning  of  goods, 
which  I  do  not  believe  in  at  all ;  without  inter- 
fering, in  fact,  with  the  inequalities  of  wealth  that 
are  just,  nor  diminishing  in  the  slightest  degree 
the  inducements  which  stimulate  even  the  great- 
est accumulation  of  wealth  by  honest  means. 
What  do  you  think  about  that  ?  " 


J 


102  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

"Well,"  said  T,  "it  is  certain  that  tlie  produc- 
tiveness of  labor  lias  been  enormously  au^^iuented 
since  the  j)resent  century  began,  by  the  mechanical 
devices  whicli  we  call  lidjor-savinn;,  althoui:;h  it 
would  be  more  proper  to  describe  them  as  lab(jr- 
belpiujj^.  liut  the  capacity  for  consumption  in  the 
liuman  race  seems  to  outrun  its  capacity  for  pro- 
duction, no  matter  how  the  latter  may  be  quick- 
ened. Xew  wants  are  developed  by  the  ability  to 
supply  them,  even  faster  than  the  sup])lying  capa- 
bility evolves  itself,  so  that  those  who  can  com- 
mand the  enjoyment  of  their  desires  may  absorb 
the  proiluets  of  labor  as  freely  as  they  ever  did. 
We  evidently  cannot  surfeit  human  desires,  and 
we  seem,  therefore,  to  be  making  no  progress  to- 
ward the  production  of  a  surplus  beyond  the  greed 
of  the  greedy,  out  of  which  it  will  be  any  easier 
to  make  a  generous  dividend  to  the  dependent 
laborers  of  the  world  than  it  was  a  thousand  years 
ago.  The  conditions  of  the  struggle  for  existence, 
relatively  considered,  seem  to  remain  about  the 
same,  after  all.  the  gain  in  productiveness  that  has 
accrued  to  civilized  labor." 

"  That  may  be  true,"  returned  the  jndge,  "  but 
we  will  consider  the  point  hereafter.  AVhat  I  wish 
to  look  at  now  is  simply  the  fact  of  the  enormously- 
mcreased  and  increasing  productiveness  of  labor, 
which  is  surely  a  fact  of  tremendous  ini])ort  in 
human  history.     I  do  not  think  that  we,  any  of 


FOURTH  EVEyiXG.  103 

U8,  realize  the  nini^iiitiide  (»f  the  increase  and  the 
cuiimlative  ratio  at  whicii  it  lias  been  i::oinjj:  on 
sinee  the  Aryan  intellect  be<;an  to  be  scientitieallv 
exercised,  and  its  inventive  faculties  were  brou^'ht 
fairly  into  play.  JL'  we  could  exactly  know  how 
many  workmen  would  have  been  necessary  two 
liundred  years  ago,  with  the  processes  and  ap- 
pliances of  that  age,  to  furnish  in  a  given  time  the 
products  that  are  now  turned  out  in  the  same  time  y 
by  the  labor  of  England,  France,  Germany,  and 
the  United  States,  we  should  doubtless  be  as- 
tounded by  the  figures.  It  would  be  hard,  how- 
ever, to  gather  the  data  for  even  an  approximate 
calculation  of  the  sort ;  because  eveiy  })resent  prod- 
uct represents  such  complicated  intermixings  of 
labor.  In  the  case  of  a  [)roduct  of  machine-work, 
for  example,  there  enters  into  it  all  the  successive, 
multifarious  oi)erations  of  industry  by  which  the 
metals  and  wood  composing  the  material  of  the 
machine  in  rpiestion  were  produced  and  brought 
together ;  then  the  inventing  and  experimenting 
by  which  this  machine  was  perfected ;  then,  be- 
hind these,  another  complication  of  the  same  fac- 
tors of  labor  in  the  other  machines  which  have  con- 
tributed help  in  the  making  of  this  particular  one ; 
and  so  on,  indefinitdv,  almost.  If  we  were  able 
to  thus  determine  the  cpiantity  of  human  labor 
which  the  machine  itself  represents,  from  lirst  to 
last,  going  back,  very  likely,  to  years  before  it  was 


I» 


104  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

ever  dreamed  of,  we  should  tlicn  have  to  distribute 
this  by  equal  division  over  the  whole  product  of 
its  work,  from  the  time  it  was  first  set  in  motion 
until  it  wears  itself  out,  with  allowance  made  for 
repairs  and  improvements  meantime.  That  done, 
we  should  next  have  to  trace  out  the  innumerable 
tributary  industries  which  have  entered  into  the 
production  and  bringing  together  of  the  materials 
upon  which  the  machine  operates,  or  which  it  is 
emplo}  3d  to  fashion  into  a  given  shape;  and  these, 
in  most  cases,  will  include,  first  and  last,  the  work 
of  farmers,  miners,  machinists,  inventors,  scientific 
discoverers,  merchants,  bankers,  clerks,  shipbuild- 
ers, sailors,  railroad  engineers,  and  mechanics  and 
working  men  in  a  hundred  avocations  at  least. 

"  The  calculation  is  'manifestly  an  impossible 
one,  and  any  attempt  to  determine  how  much  the 
productive  efficiency  of  human  labor  has  been 
multiplied  within  a  given  time  can  only  be  guess- 
work at  the  best.  We  can  keep  our  estimates 
safely  within  reason,  however,  and  have  enough, 
perhaps,  to  found  all  necessary  conclusions  upon. 

"An  effort  was  made  not  long  ago  by  Dr. 
Engel,  the  director  of  the  Prussian  Statistical 
Bureau,  to  procure  statistics  of  the  steam-power  in 
use  in  the  world,  lie  was  only  partially  successful, 
but  from  the  data  gathered  he  estimated — if  the 
report  that  I  have  seen  is  correct — that  there  can- 
not be  less  than  from  three  to  three  and  a  half 


I 


FOURTH  EVEXiy^G.  105 

millions  of  liorse-power  at  work  in  the  stationary 
engines  of  the  world,  and  ten  millions  of  horse- 
power in  the  land  locomotive  engines.  The  marine 
engines  add  considerable  to  this,  hut  I  shall  not 
take  them  into  account  at  present.  Now,  this 
steam  power  which  is  at  work  on  the  continental 
portions  of  the  globe — most  of  it  in  Europe  and 
America — drawing  loads,  lifting  burdens,  forging 
metals,  grinding  corn,  whirling  spindles  and  driv- 
ing the  shuttles  in  a  million  of  looms,  is  so  much 
force,  brought  to  the  help  of  human  labor,  which 
is  maintained  without  any  consumption  of  animal 
or  vegetable  food.  The  feeding  of  it  is  from 
mineral  stores  laid  uj)  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ; 
its  activity  draws  nothing  from  the  resources  of 
the  soil  of  the  globe,  exce])t  to  the  extent  of  the 
food  of  the  miners  who  dig  the  coal  which  is 
burned  in  the  engine-furnace,  and  the  force  main- 
tained in  their  muscles  is  to  the  force  generated  by 
the  product  of  their  labor  as  one  to  a  thousand,  at 
most.  This  is  an  important  fact  to  consider  in 
connection  with  what  we  are  discnssing,  because 
the  limits  to  vegetation  on  the  soil-surface  of  the 
earth  are  the  chief  limits  imposed  upon  human 
labor.  This  steam  labor-force,  which  is  fed  with 
coals  instead  of  with  grains  or  grasses,  is  e<pial  to 
the  working  force  of  al)out  25,000,000  horses,  be- 
cause the  theoretical  '  horse-power '  of  the  steam 
engine  is  nearly  equivalent  to  the  average  actual 


< 


106 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


worlving  power  of  two  liorses,  according  to  the 
calculations  now  most  accepted.     Hence,  to  do  the 
same  work,  of  transportation,  of  lifting,  of  grind- 
ing, of  crnshing,  and  of  moving  machinery  which 
acts  in  the  place  of  human    lingers  and  hands, 
25,000,000  horses  would  have  to  be  emi>loyed — 
supposing  that  horses  wxn'e  capable  of  the  same 
work,  with  the  same  steadiness  and  celerity  and  in 
the  same  efficient  way,  which  they  are  not.     The 
horse  consumes,  I  should  say,  as  much  food,  at 
least,  as  three  men.     It  is  true  that  man's  food 
ordinarily  costs  more  labor  than  that  of  the  horse, 
because  he  w^ants  a  greater  variety  in  it,  and  em- 
ploys labor  to  bring  him  tea  from  China,  cofl'ee 
from  Java,  sugar  from  the  West  Indies,  etc. ;  but, 
relatively  to  the  producing  capabilities  of  the  soil 
of  th^  earth,  a  horse  must  consume  not  less  than 
three  times  as  much  as  a  man,  and  competes  with 
man  in  that  ratio  for  the  subsistence  which  the 
earth  yields.    To  put  steam-power  therefore  in  the 
place  of  25,000,000  horses  is  equivalent  to  a  saving 
of  food  for  about  75,000,000  human  beings  more 
than  could  otherwise  be  fed  from  the  same  ai'ea  of 
soil,  under  the  same  state  of  cultivation.     This  is 
not,  my  dear  sir,  a  mere  matter  of  idle  speculation  ; 
for  statisticians  have  found  that,  in  all  civilized 
countries  of  the  world,  the  rate  of  increase  in  the 
number  of  horses  has  diminished  greatly  since  the 
introduction  of  steam-power  began  to  be  rapid  and 


FOURTH  E VEXING.  107 

universal,  which  was  less  than  half  a  century  ago. 
The  ell'ect  was  first  noticed  in  Europe,  I  believe, 
but  it  has  become  strouijrly  marked  in  this  country, 
as  well.  From  ISoO  to  18G0  the  increase  ot"  horses 
in  the  I'nited  States  Avas  at  the  rate  of  44:  per 
cent.,  but  from  1800  to  187U  it  fell  to  l-i  per  cent. 
Something  must  be  allowed,  no  doubt,  for  the 
elfects  of  the  war  in  the  last  decade,  but  not 
enough  to  account  for  half  this  great  decrease.  It 
represents  the  pi'(jgress  of  the  substitution  of  in- 
animate for  animate  dumb  servants  in  the  employ 
of  man.  I  do  not  care  to  i)redict  that  this  will  go 
so  far  as  to  displace  all  domestic  animals  from 
workinix  service,  but  1  can  see  that  invention  is 
pushing  the  horse  and  the  ox  out  of  employment 
very  fast,  and  that  every  year  the  sweep  of  this 
etfect  aj)pears  to  extend.  AVe  are  now  just  at  the 
point,  it  would  seem,  of  having  the  steam-engine 
fully  adapted  to  canal  navigation,  to  street-car 
locomotion,  to  ploughing  and  genertd  farm  work 
and  even  to  draft  service  on  conunon  roads.  In 
m}^  view,  this  movement  of  substitution  is  one  of 
vast  importance  and  significance,  not  only  because 
it  augments  the  etticiency  of  labor,  but  because  it 
tends  toward  the  taking  of  brute  animals  out  of 
competition  with  man  as  consumers  of  the  pi'oducts 
of  the  soil,  and  thus  enormously  increases  the  vStock 
wdiich  remains  for  division  among  the  human  pro- 
ducers.    Do  you  agree  with  me  so  far  as  this  i  " 


108 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


« > 


"  I  do,"  said  I.  "  The  fact  wliich  you  have 
Lrouglit  to  notice  has  all  the  significance  that  you 
claim  for  it,  I  think,  and  it  becomes  very  interest- 
ing to  me,  as  well  as  very  important,  in  that  view, 
which  I  have  never  seen  presented  before." 

"  A'^ery  well,  then,"  continued  the  judge,  "  we 
will  go  on :  the  stationary  steam-engines  in  the 
world,  which  have  come  into  existence  almost 
wholly  within  the  last  half  century,  and  more  than 
half  of  them,  probably,  within  the  List  twenty 
years,  are  doing  a  great  variety  of  work ;  but 
chiefly  they  are  employed  in  propelling  machineiy 
which  performs  mechanical  g^  dtions  that  for- 
merly had  to  be  performed  by  the  Angers,  hands 
and  arms  of  working-men  and  working-women. 
Along  with  these  steam-engines,  there  is  also  being 
employed,  in  the  same  kind  of  work,  an  enormous 
water-power,  the  machinery  for  utilizing  which 
has  been  improved  within  our  own  generation  al- 
most as  greatly  as  the  machinery  for  utilizing  the 
expansive  power  of  steam  has  been  ;  and  this  rep- 
resents, even  more  than  steam  does,  a  non-consum- 
ing force,  doing  prodigious  work  for  man  without 
drawing  much  from  the  productive  resources  of 
the  soil.  The  water-power  in  nse  is  fully  equal, 
perhaps,  to  the  steam-power,  and  both  of  these 
mighty  servants  are  driving  machines  which  man 
has  only  to  wait  upon  and  watch  and  direct,  and 
which  execute,  under  his  supervision  and  with  his 


y 


FOURTH  EVENING. 


101) 


help,  each  witliin  its  own  spocinlizcd  fuiictioii,  all 
the  way  from  iivc  to  a  thousand  times  the  qnan- 
tity  of  a  given  work  which  he  could  do  with  his 
unaided  hands. 

"  In  such  simple  mechanical  operations  as  the 
cutting  of  nails,  the  making  of  needles  and  pins, 
and  the  stamping  of  metals  iuto  shapes — where 
power  and  precision  in  one  quick  monotonous 
movement  are  the  only  requisites — the  multiplica- 
tion of  product  hy  machine  lahor  overhand  lahor 
is  very  great.  In  constructive  processes  where  a 
combination  of  movements  is  necessarv,  the  niulti- 
plication  of  product  is  less,  and  ])roportionately  so, 
I  suspect,  to  tlie  mechanical  complications  involved. 
I>ut  the  division  of  nuichine  labor  is  beinii*  or<::an- 
ized  to  perfection,  in  the  same  way  as  the  division 
of  human  labor,  and  the  constant  tendency,  in 
almost  every  branch  of  manutacture,  is  toward  the 
resolving  of  one  complicated  machine  into  two 
or  three  or  four  simple  ones,  each  of  which  per- 
forms a  single  operation  by  a  sijigle  movement, 
thus  gaining  the  maximum  eifect  of  power,  pre- 
cision r.nd  uniform  speed, 

"  But  even  in  the  more  complex  constructive 
operations,  the  gain  of  product  from  a  given 
quantity  of  human  labor,  employed  as  auxiliary 
to  machine  labor,  is  immense.  Take  the  making 
of  fabrics  for  clothing,  for  example.  The  power- 
looms  now  used  at  Manchester,  England,  for  the 


. 


110 


TALES  ABOUT  LABOR. 


inanufacture  of  common  cotton  goods,  are  each 
8ai(l  to  i)ro(liice  tlailv,  on  the  averngc,  twenty-six 
pieces  of  cotton  cloth,  twcntv-nine  yards  long  and 
twenty-five  i^.clies  wide.  One  person  can  j.ttend 
to  three  of  these  looms,  so  that  the  joint  daily 
i)rodnct  of  the  man  and  the  machine  is  seventy- 

■1.  1/ 

eight  pieces  ;  whereas,  on  the  old  hand-loom  of 
1800,  one  man,  working  one  loom,  produced  only 
four  pieces.  Here,  from  the  same  ex])cn(liture  of 
human  lahor,  we  have  a  muhi})lication  of  prod- 
uct almost  twentvfuld — less  the  labor  which  is 
represented  in  the  improved  machine,  in  tlie  en- 
gine which  drives  it  and  in  the  fuel  which  the 
engine  consumes,  dividing  that  labor  down  to  the 
small  fraction  which  is  chargeable  against  one 
day's  work  of  the  machine,  out  of  the  thousands 
of  days'  work  it  is  cai)able  of  doing  before  it  is 
worn  out.  AYe  shall  make  a  laro-e  allowance  for 
the  capitalized  labor  in  this  machinery  if  we  set 
down  the  final  multiplication  of  product,  conse- 
(juent  upon  the  improvement  of  mechanical  aids 
to  the  human  laborer,  at  hfteenfold. 

"  In  the  spinning  and  Aveaving  of  woollen 
cloths  and  all  finer  fabrics,  the  ])roduction  of  a 
given  number  of  workmen  has  been  multiplied, 
no  doubt,  in  a  ratio  somewhat  less ;  but  still  it 
must  be  quite  within  reason  to  estimate  the  aver- 
age multiplication  at  tenfold. 

"  When  we  pass  to  consider  the  making  of 


FOURTH  EVEXTXG.  HI 

these  fabrics  ir.to  clotliing,  we  come  upon  tlie  most 
striking  mcdiuuical  achievement  of  our  own  gen- 
eration— the  sewiiig-machiTie.  T  shall  ask  the 
ladies  here  to  say  how  many  needle-women  one  ot 
them  is  equal  to,  in  efficient  work  i "' 

"  Not  less  than  ten,  I  am  sure,"  said  my  wife. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  is  a  moderate  state- 
ment," continued  the  judge.  "  So  far,  then,  as 
concerns  one  of  the  primary  wants  of  man — his 
clothing — the  constructive  work,  taking  all  the 
successive  processes  after  the  raw  material  has 
been  produced,  is  undoubtedly  being  now  per- 
formed by  not  more  than  one-tenth  of  the  work- 
men and  workwomen,  for  a  given  quantity  and 
kind  of  product,  that  were  required  even  fifty  or 
sixty  years  ago. 

"  In  the  matter  of  shelter — house-building  and 
its  allied  industries — the  fact  cannot  be  very  dif- 
ferent, although  I  should  make  a  somewhat  lower 
estimate.  Our  modern  wood-working  machinery 
lias  wonderfully  revolutionized  the  carpenter's 
trade.  The  planing  machine,  for  example,  prob- 
ably performs  more  work  of  its  kind  in  a  day 
than  twenty  industrious  journeymen  could  do  with 
the  same  precision  and  perfectness,  using  hand 
tools,  and,  after  making  a  large  allowance  for  the 
labor  capitalized  in  the  machine,  in  the  driving 
engine,  etc.,  we  can  safely  estimate  the  nniltiplica 
tion  of  product  in  this  part  of  building-labor  at 


112 


TALK"^  ABOUT  LABOR. 


fifteenfold.  Other  kindred  machines,  like  those 
for  grooving  and  tongning,  mortising  and  tenon- 
ing, etc.,  accomplish  almost  as  much,  relatively 
to  hand  labor.  The  mechanical  aids  in  bi'ick- 
making  have  become  scarcely  less  efficient.  But 
masonry,  on  the  other  hand,  has  not  yet  acquired 
its  share  of  help  from  the  mechanic  forces,  and  so 
much  hand-work,  of  fitting  together  and  finishing, 
remains  in  all  the  branches  of  building  industry, 
that  the  gross  average  increment  of  product,  com- 
paring equal  quantities  of  lal)or,  must  be  con- 
siderably less,  for  a  hundred  years  past,  than  in 
the  department  of  labor  that  we  considered  before. 
Taking  all  the  buikling  arts  together,  including 
those  which  deal  with  wood,  stone  and  metal,  and 
including  also  the  furnishings  and  the  fittings  of 
buildings,  I  should  think  it  reasonable  to  estimate 
that  human  labor  liac  now,  at  least,  five  times  the 
productive  efficiency  that  it  had  a  century  ago. 

"  Now  let  us  look  at  that  department  of  labor 
which  stands  first  of  all — the  department  of  agri- 
cultural labor — the  labor  which  not  only  produces 
the  most  of  man's  food,  but  which  produces,  also, 
the  materials  on  which  the  greater  part  of  all  other 
labor  expends  itself.  Here  the  increment  of  prod- 
uct, through  improved  processes  and  improved 
mechanical  aids,  is  necessarily  less.  The  soil  is 
an  independent  and  stubborn  factor  of  production. 
It  imposes    its   own   Innits    upon    the   labor   to 


FO  UR  TH  E  V EN IX  a. 


113 


wliiL'li  it  responds.  It  yields  more  product  to 
more  labor,  knowingly  <ap[)liLMl,  but  it  cannot  be 
made  to  yield  proMortic^nately.  The  ratio  of  its 
product  to  the  producing  labor  grows  steadily  less 
as  the  latter  is  increased.  The  one  obstinate 
limit,  thereTore,  which  nature  lias  imposed  upon 
the  productiveness  of  human  labor  is  found  right 
here.  But  even  here  the  achievemeuts  of  mechan- 
ics and  science  have  been  prodigious — in  three 
ways:  first,  by  multiplying  the  effectiveness  of  a 
given  quantity  of  labor  applied  to  a  given  area  of 
soil ;  secondly,  by  placing  at  the  command  of  the 
tiller  of  the  soil  tiie  reenforcemeut  of  extra  help 
which  he  needs,  temporarily,  at  the  seasons  of 
phmting  and  harvesting,  especially  the  latter ; 
thirdly,  by  making  wider  areas  of  soil  tributary  to 
the  wants  of  giv^en  communities,  by  increasing  the 
facilities  of  transportation. 

"As  for  the  iirst,  even  the  hand  tools  of  agri- 
cultural labor  have  been  improved  so  much  that 
the  very  laziest  hxborer  can  outstrip  with  them  the 
hardest-working  laborer  of  a  hundred  years  ago. 
AV^ith  the  cast-steel  plow  of  to-day,  shaped  with 
scientific  calculation,  to  realize  the  maximum  ef- 
fect from  the  minimum  application  of  force,  the 
farmer  turns  far  more  sod,  with  the  satne  wear  of 
his  horses  and  of  himself,  than  he  could  have  done 
with  the  iron  plow  of  even  forty  years  ago,  to  say 
nothing  of  its  clumsier  predecessors.     Then  there 


lU  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIi. 

arc  tlic  steam  plows,  tlic  liarrows,  tlic  j)l;mters,  tlic 
cultivators,  the  mowing  machines,  the  reaj)ing 
machines,  the  horse  rakes,  the  threshers,  the  sniut- 
Bcouring  machines,  the  potato  digu^ers,  the  dihh 
dign-ers,  and  a  score  of  other  contrivances,  all  of 
which  have  come  or  are  coming  last  into  common 
use.  1  have  no  doubt  that,  within  the  regions  to 
which  the  improved  farming  of  the  present  day 
extends,  these  machines,  taken  together,  have  re- 
duced the  ordinary  working  force  of  men,  on 
given  areas  of  soil,  to  one-fourth  or  one-third  of 
the  laboi'ing  force  en  ployed  for  the  same  produc- 
tion at  the  beginnin*^  of  our  century. 

"  But  the  second  element  of  pi'oductive  prog- 
ress in  agriculture  which  I  mentioned  a  moment 
ago  adds  something  to  the  increment.  A  given 
quantity  of  labor,  under  the  ordinary  conditions  of 
agriculture,  can  prepare  soil  and  plant  seeds  for  a 
greater  crop  than  the  same  labor  can  harvest, 
during  the  short  season  within  which  the  cro])  has 
to  be  gathered  and  saved,  and  agriculture  was 
always  troubled  by. this  brief  periodical  need  of 
extra  harvesting  labor,  until  the  mechanical  in- 
ventor made  a  provision  for  it  which  involves, 
simply,  the  investing  of  a  certain  small  capital,  em- 
bodied in  certain  machines,  like  the  rea])er  and  the 
mower.  It  has  been  estimated  that  M'C'ormick's 
reaping  machine  doubled  the  production  of  grain 
in  the  regions  of  the  West  where  it  was  introduced, 


. 


FOVllTll  EVKXIXQ, 


115 


8iinj)ly  by  euiibliii^  tlio  Jivaihihlc  labor  of  those 
regions  to  harvest  tlio  crop  wliich  it  was  c'ai)a!>le 
of  producing.  Without  the  reapi(i<;  machine,  tlie 
fanners  would  have  to  lose  half  of  their  crop,  if 
they  elfectively  expended  all  tlie  lal)or  that  they 
could  expend  in  plantin<^  and  cultivation,  or  else 
they  would  have  to  withhold  one  half  of  the  culti- 
vatin<^  labor  which  they  might  apply  to  their  farms, 
in  order  to  produce  no  greater  crop  than  they  were 
able  to  gather  in.  In  either  case,  according  to  the 
calculation,  the  machine  saved  a  waste  of  pro- 
ductive labor  to  the  extent  of  one  hundred  i)er 
cent. ;  and  that  reverted  effect  is  (|uite  additional 
to  its  own  direct  eifect  upon  the  elHciency  of  laljor 
while  being  operated. 

"  Thirdly  and  finally,  the  eilectivencss  of  pro- 
ductive labor  in  agriculture  has  been  augmented 
very  greatly  by  the  extraordinary  extension  and 
impi'ovement,  during  late  years,  of  the  avenues 
and  vehicles  of  transportation.  The  resulting  de- 
crease of  time  and  cost  in  the  carriage  of  products 
to  distant  markets  has  brought,  and  is  constantly 
bringing  about,  more  economical  divisions  of  agri- 
cultural labor,  whereby  it  becomes  applied  with 
more  and  more  nearly  its  maximum  ellect.  When 
any  considerable  portion  of  the  lands  of  some  re- 
gion whose  climate  and  soil  are  best  ada])ted  to 
wheat-culture  has  to  be  devoted  to  cattle  grazing, 
or  to  the  breeding  of  sheep,  in  order  to  su2^])ly 


IIG 


TALA'S  AJlOrr  LABOR. 


local  wants,  tliere  1^  a  certain  waste  of  tlie  lal)or 
thus  diverted,  because  it  is  being  apjdicd  w  itli  Jesd 
productive  elKciency  than  it  might  be.  Hut  our 
railroads,  onr  steam  vessels,  our  canals,  and  our 
iin})roved  rivers  have  diminished  that  waste  to  an 
enormous  extent  during  the  last  hall"  century,  and 
their  work  is  just  fairly  begun.  The  wheat-raising, 
the  corn-|»lanting  and  pork-t'attening,  the  cattle 
grazing,  the  sheep  breeding,  the  dairy  farming, 
the  fruit  culture,  and  so  on,  are  being  districted 
with  the  nicest  discrimination — with  the  closest 
adaptation  of  the  product  to  climate,  soil  and  every 
other  intluential  condition — and  the  area  of  dis- 
tributed division  is  becoming  every  year  more  and 
more  continental.  You  will  readily  see  that  this 
cannot  occur  without  a  very  great  augmentation  of 
the  total  product,  i)roportionately  to  the  labor  ex- 
pended, even  allowing  for  the  auxiliary  labor  by 
which  such  wider  exchanges  are  carried  on.  The 
same  agency,  moreover,  is  putting  a  sto])  to  the 
waste  of  a  localized  surplus  of  product,  which  used 
to  be  common  and  extensive — as  when,  for  exam- 
ple, the  farmers  of  the  AVest  burned  for  fuel  the 
corn  which  they  could  carry  to  no  market. 

"Looking  over  the  wliole  field,  at  all  the  im- 
proved conditions  of  agricultural  production,  I 
cannot  doubt  that  the  efficiency  of  labor  in  it  has 
been  increased  at  least  fourfold,  since  no  longer 
ago  than  last  century,  in  the  better  civilized  coun- 


FOCRTFT  EVEXrXO. 


iir 


tries  of  tlie  world.  That  is  to  sny,  that,  for  tlio 
same  total  ai^riciiltural  product,  not  less  tliaii  four 
tiiuos  us  many  laborini^  hands  as  are  employed 
ill  these  countries  to-day  wouhl  have  had  to  he 
employed  one  hundred  years  a<j:o.  Kvery  sucees- 
sive  census  shows  a  rehitive  thinnini!^  out  of  popu- 
lation in  the  rural  districts,  wherever  these  im- 
provements are  in  proii^ress,  and  some  social  ])hi- 
losophers  are  inspired  with  great  alarm  by  the 
increasiui*:  tendency  of  movement  in  the  youn<rer 
generations  of  the  farm-bred  class  to  '  crowd,'  as 
they  say,  into  cities  and  towns.  They  fail  to  see 
that  it  is  an  inevitable  movement,  pushed  on  by 
the  irresistible  forces  that  are  t  work  in  society; 
because  it  has  become  impossible  to  employ  on  the 
soil  the  same  proportion  of  laborers  in  one  genera- 
tion that  was  employed  the  generation  before,  and 
each  succeeding  generation  iinds  the  proportion 
considerably  reduced. 

"  Do  you  think  that  my  estimate  is  too  large  ? " 
I  said  that  it  seemed  more  likely  to  be  under 
than  above  the  fact. 

"  AVell,  then,"  proceeded  the  judge,  "  let  us 
sum  our  conclusions  up.  In  the  matter  of  the 
constructive  production  of  man's  clothing,  we  es- 
timated that  the  increase  of  product  from  given 
quantities  of  human  labor,  as  compared  with  the 
production  of  a  hundred  years  ago,  has  become 
equal  to  a  multiplication  by  ten.     AVe  estimated  a 


118 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


f 


multiplication  by  live  in  the  case  of  labor  wliich 
produces  shelter  for  him,  averaging  together  all 
the  various  kinds  of  workmanship  that  are  inci- 
dent to  the  buildin<»:,  fittin<i;  and  furnishing  of  his 
habitations  and  his  houses  of  brriness  and  pleas- 
ure. And,  finally,  we  have  estimated  a  multiplica- 
tion by  four  in  the  case  of  the  labor  that  expends 
itself  in  the  production  of  his  food,  and  of  such 
materials  derived  from  the  soil  as  constructive 
labor  is  employed  upon.  JS'ow,  I  am  sure  that  we 
are  not  overstepping  the  limit  of  probability  if  we 
take  the  mean  multiple  of  these  three  to  represent 
the  general  average  increment,  M'ithin  a  century, 
of  the  productiveness  of  all  labor  that  is  applied  to 
material  objects,  in  those  countries,  of  Europe  and 
America,  which  are  most  advanced  in  the  arts  and 
the  knowledge  of  our  modern  civilization.  It 
seems  to^me  certain  that  the  labor  which  is  pro- 
ductively en;p]oyed  in  tliese  countries  to-day,  put- 
ting it  all  together,  is  producing  at  least  six  times 
as  much  as  the  same  number  of  lal)orers  could  have 
produced  a  hundred  years  ago;  or,  testate  the  fact 
differently,  that  only  one  man  need  work  now 
where  six  worked  a  hundred  years  ago  to  produce 
the  same  supply  for  the  satisfaction  of  human 
wants  to  the  same  extent.  If  the  six  do  still 
work,  as  they  certainly  do,  the  multi])lication  of 
product,  proportionately  to  tlie  increase  of  popula- 
tion, is  enormous ;  and  if  this  multii)lication  is  going 


FOURTH  EVE XIX a. 


119 


on  at  tlie  same  rate,  as  it  appears  likely  to  do,  there 
would  seem  to  be  even  a  possibility  of  surfeiting, 
by-aiid-by,  all  rational  wants  and  desires  of  the 
animal  maii,  unless  some  new  rules  for  the  divi- 
sion <jf  the  increased  product  are  introduced." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  AVell,  no  matter,"  said  the  judge.  "Let  that 
be  an  open  question.  I  do  not  care  about  it.  I 
only  care  to  claim  that  there  is  furnished  to  the 
race  at  large,  by  this  vast  increase  of  an  always 
ijicreasing  production,  enougli  to  improve  very 
considerably  the  conditions  of  life  for  every  man 
who  industriously  contributes  toward  it,  without 
interfering  at  all  with  the  just  ine(pialities  of 
weahh,  or  impaij'iug  at  all  tii3  etfective  uses  of 
wealth,  or  diminisbiuir  at  all  the  effective  induce- 
ments  to  its  accumulation.  I  am  sure  that  vou 
Avill  agree  with  me  in  this  V 

1  nodded  assent  and  lie  went  on. 

"  IJut  how  m«ch  have  the  conditions  of  life 
been  imprinted  for  tlie  ordinary  laborer,  or  for  the 
average  mechanic  who  works  for  wages,  and  who 
works  hard,  with  no  little  intelligence  and  with  no 
small  measure  of  the  knowledi!:e  of  the  ai::e  in  his 
education^  How  much  does  he  partake  of  the  stu- 
pendous increase  of  the  fruits  (tf  labor?  I  know 
that  he  is  a  partaker; — the  poorest  beggar,  almost, 
j)artakes  somewhat  of  the  bettered  conditions  of 
life  ;  but  do  you  think  that,  for  the  wages-paid 


120 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


nieclianie  of  to-dny,  there  is  an  augmented  sliare  of 
comfort  and  culture  and  gratiiication  at  all  equal 
to  the  productive  gain  of  his  generation.  A  few 
simple  luxuries  have  been  added  to  his  food ;  but 
it  is  no  better,  on  the  whole,  nor  supplied  to  him 
more  aljundantly,  than  it  was  three  hundred  years 
ago  in  England,  according  to  Fronde,  when  beef 
sold  for  two  farthings  a  pound,  a  fat  Limb  for  a 
shilling,  a  chicken  for  a  penny,  and  -wages  were 
from  fourpence  to  sixpence  a  day.  His  house 
has  gained  windows  of  glass ;  a  chimney  to  dis- 
charge its  smoke;  a  stove  or  two  to  equalize  its 
comfortable  warmth ;  some  cheap  carpeting  in 
place  of  straw  upon  the  floors ;  softer  beds,  per- 
haps, and  varnished  chairs,  instead  of  benches  of 
rough-hewn  deal,  lie  eats  from  dishes  of  a  neater 
pattern  than  the  wooden  trenchers  of  olden  times, 
and  he  has  forks  and  knives  to  eat  with  in  a  decent 
wav.  He  has  a  cheerfuller  li<>'ht  in  his  dwellin<»' 
than  the  rush-light  or  the  tallow  dip  could  give, 
llis  clothing  is  better  fashioned  and  cleaner  that  it 
used  to  be.  In  Vodij  he  is  nuide  very  comfortable, 
no  doubt,  although  he  enjoys  but  sparingly  the 
conveniences  of  life  which  our  later  times  have 
been  fertile  in  producing.  l)Ooks  are  brought 
within  his  reach,  by  public  libraries  and  other- 
wise— if  he  has  time  to  read  them.  lie  may 
travel,  too,  at  greatly  lessened  cost,  to  see  some- 
thing of  the  world,  and  he  may  gratify  all  his  cu- 


'!     I 


,1 


FO  UR  Til  E  VENING. 


121 


rions  and  inquiring  and  aesthetic  desires  at  less  cost 
than  he  formerly  conhl — if  he  has  time.  But  he 
is  compelled  to  labor  just  about  as  liard  and  just 
about  as  continuously  to  secure  the  bodily  main- 
tenance and  comfort  of  himself  and  his  family  as 
the  laborer  did  two  or  three  hundred  years  a^o. 
So  the  greater  part  of  his  share  of  the  improved 
conditions  of  life,  after  all,  is  just  in  that  improve- 
ment of  bodily  comfort,  which  does  not  seem  to 
be  very  great.  Is  it  enough  to  fairly  account  to 
him  for  the  productive  progress  of  the  human  race 
in  the  last  three  centuries  I  I  cannot  think  so.  I 
cannot  make  myself  feel  satisfied  with  it. 

"  The  wlujle  sum  total  of  things  which  really 
contrilnite  in  any  immediate  way  to  the  mere 
maintenance  and  bodily  comfort  of  the  racr  is  pro- 
duced, we  must  remember,  by  a  fraction  only  of 
the  labor  of  the  present  day.  There  has  not  been 
a  single  generation,  in  the  civilized  countries,  for 
two  hundred  years  ])ast,  at  least,  which  directed 
over  half  its  lal)or  to  that  end,  and  we  certainly 
have  disengaged  more  than  half  of  the  labor  of  our 
time  from  those  objects  of  production  which  gi'atil'y 
bodily  wants,  whether  simple  or  luxurious.  Even 
the  highest  degree  of  animal  comfort,  therefore, 
seems  but  a  ])altry  pittance  to  give  to  any  indus- 
trious producer,  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  age. 
Yet  less  than  that  is  fallinii;  to  the  lo^  i  dav,  of 
an  actual  majoi-ity  of  the  toiling  men  .  vvomen 
6 


122  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

whose  work  lias  filled  tlie  world  so  full  of  riches 
that  they  run  to  waste.  Is  this,  do  jou  think,  a 
necessary  state  of  things  'i  Is  it  a  state  of  things 
to  be  satisfied  with  ? 

"  I  have  spoken  of  riches  that  run  to  waste  out 
of  the  abundance  to  which  the  world  has  attained. 
You  touched  upon  that  point  a  little  while  ago,  but 
I  did  not  think  we  were  ready  then  to  consider  it. 
We  could  not  riMitlv  estimate  the  wastefulness  of 
consumption  until  we  had  formed  some  idea  of 
the  increase  of  production,  as  we  have  since  done. 
Let  us  now  go  back  to  it.  You  tliouglit,  you  said, 
that  profiigate  and  wasteful  consumption,  on  the 
part  of  those  who  are  able  to  connnand  possession 
of  the  })roducts  of  labor,  cannot  be  restrained.  I 
do  not  quite  agree  with  you.  Can  you  tell  me 
what  wasteful  consumption  is  ? " 

I  scratched  my  head  and  confessed  that  I  did 
not  see  how  it  could  be  defined  with  any  precision 
at  all.  "And  that,"  1  added,  "  constitutes  just 
the  difficulty  in  the  matter  which  I  was  setting  be- 
fore you." 

"  It  is  a  difficulty,"  returned  the  judge,  "  and 
I  certainly  woidd  not  undertake  to  draw  a  com- 
plete line  between  wasteful  and  unwasteful  con- 
sumption. It  cannot  possibly  be  done.  l>ut  I 
have  at  least  one  very  well  defined  notion  on  the 
subject.  Let  us  rid  ourselves,  first,  of  the  con- 
fusion which  the  idea  of  "  profligacy  "  introduces. 


FOURTH  EVEXIXG. 


123 


Profligate  consumption,  is  not  necessarily  waste- 
ful consum2)ti()n,  in  the  economical  sense.  Profli- 
gacy is  a  word  of  .^^liifting  signiflcation.  It  means 
dilferently  to  dilferent  persons  and  under  difler- 
ent  circumstances.  That  which  seems  profligate 
to  one  is  not  profligate  to  another,  and  it  was  this 
fact,  I  think,  wliicli  you  had  mostly  in  mind,  when 
you  (piestioned  the  possibility  of  bringing  the  con- 
sumption of  the  products  of  labor  under  any  con- 
trolling laws.  Put  there  is  one  broad  law  that 
can  be  laid  down  and  which  is  suflicient,  in  the 
economical  view,  to  cover  the  whole  ground.  It 
is  this  :  that  nothing  can  1)e  said  to  be  wasted 
which  contributes  to  the  gratifying  or  the  satisfy- 
ing of  any  taste  or  any  want  in  man,  whether  nat- 
ural or  cultivated.  From  the  moral  standpoint 
this  looks  like  a  startlingly  Ijroad  rule,  but  I  am 
convinced  that  it  represents  the  only  view  which 
political  economy  can  take.  AVe  can  make  no  dis- 
tinction between  trne  tastes  and  false  tastes,  or 
between  vicious  desires  and  virtuous  ones,  because 
we  cannot  agi'ee  about  them.  We  can  take  ac- 
count of  no  wastefulness  in  any  consumption  of 
labor  which  has  distinctly  an  object  in  any  human 
taste  or  human  want.  There  is  wastefulness,  to 
be  sure,  because  everything  expended  u})on  an  un- 
worthy object,  or  expended  disproportionately  t' 
the  importance  of  the  o))ject,  is  wasted ;  but  we 
simply  cannot  take  account  of  it. 


124  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR, 

"  Where,  tlien,  is  the  waste  that  we  can  take 
account  of?  I  will  tell  jou.  It  is  in  the  consump- 
tion of  wealth  which  has  no  object  outside  of  it- 
self. It  is  in  that  consumption  of  labor  and  of  the 
products  of  labor  which  is  for  the  sake  of  con- 
sumption only ;  which  is  for  the  sake,  in  other 
words,  of  displaying  the  ability  to  consume  and 
which  consumes  objectlessly  for  that  pur^jose.  It 
is  that  which  we  call  the  ostentation  of  wealth,  or 
of  the  power  of  consumption  which  wealth  gives. 
This  is  ti.*o  great  robber  of  society.  It  steals  more 
out  of  what  belongs  to  the  race  at  large,  for  the 
comforting  and  beautifying  and  enlarging  of  hu- 
man lite,  than  all  the  robber  appetites  and  passions 
and  vices  put  together.  It  is  a])palling  to  think  of 
the  extent  to  which  it  recklessly  and  with  brutal 
insensatcness  destroys  the  connnon  benefit  that 
ought  to  accrue  to  mankind  from  the  great  inven- 
tions by  which  the  fruitfulness  of  labor  is  nnil- 
tiplied.  Look  at  one  instance  out  of  hundreds, 
Avhich  our  lady-friends  here  can  appreciate.  The 
sewing-machine  made  it  possible  to  cheapen  enor- 
mously the  construction  of  clothing  and  to  set  free 
from  that  work  a  vast  cpiantity  of  labor  for  other 
fields  of  production,  tributary  to  the  conven- 
iences of  living,  or  to  the  sense  of  beauty,  or  to 
the  desire  for  knowhidge.  Has  it  realized  such  a 
result,  in  any  degree  commensurate  at  all  with 
what    it  added  to  the  efticiencv  of  labor  in    the 


FOURTH  EVENING. 


m 


employment  of  sewing  ?  Xo.  And  wliy  ?  Be- 
cause a  despicable,  senseless,  and  most  vulg-ar  van- 
ity in  that  minor  fraction  of  mankind  which  has 
the  power,  more  or  less,  to  command  hibor  at  will, 
refuses  to  let  clothing  be  cheapened,  and  persists 
in  the  contemptible  display  of  an  ability  to  possess 
and  to  wear  clothes  which  cost  much  Itdxtr.  So 
the  '  world  of  fashion,'  as  we  call  it,  exerfs  a  per- 
verted ingenuity  in  contriving  forms  of  construc- 
tion and  frivolous  changes  in  dress  which  shall 
constantly  use  up,  and  more  than  use  up,  if  possi- 
ble, all  the  gain  to  labor  that  is  deriv  v.I  from  me- 
chanical invention.  With  what  ol)ject  ?  To  im- 
prove our  dress  in  durability  or  comfortableness  i 
No.  To  add  any  cpiality  of  beauty,  or  graceful- 
ness, or  pictures(pieness  ?  Xo.  To  satisfy  any  de- 
mand from  any  kind  of  taste,  whether  ])ure  and 
artistic  or  false  ^  Xo.  If  these  obiects  are  thouuiit 
of  at  all,  they  are  the  last  and  the  least  things  con- 
sidered in  the  edicts  of  fashion,  to  which  a  sur- 
viving barbarism  in  society  is  servile.  It  is  a  case 
of  consumption,  for  the  most  part,  with  no  object ; 
of  consumption  for  the  sake  of  consuming,  alone  ; 
of  consumption  to  ostentate  the  power  to  consume. 
Am  I  not  right  f 

"  You  are,"  said  my  wife,  "  '  'tis  true,  and  pity 
'tis  'tis  true.' " 

"  The  same  is  true,"  continued  the  judge,  ''  of 
consumption  in  many  other  ways,  to  a  monstrous 


If 


120  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

extent.  I  think  sometimes  that  ahiiost  -half  of 
what  is  expended  among  wealtliy  people  upon 
tlieir  houses  and  the  aiipurtenances  of  their  living 
is  expended  only  to  measure  against  one  another 
the  expending  power  which  they  severally  possess. 
There  is  not  a  desire,  nor  a  taste,  nor  a  sentiment, 
nor  an  emotion,  nor  even  an  animal  sensation  of 
the  lowest  kind,  which  prompts  it  or  is  gratified 
by  it.     It  is  simply  an  objectless  consumption. 

"  Now,  all  this  is  barbaric  and  vulgar.  It  is  of 
the  essence  of  vulgarity.  It  is  opposed  to  all  the 
influences  under  which  human  character  is  being 
develo])ed  in  the  process  of  what  we  call  civiliza- 
tion. It  is  oU'ensive,  as  much  to  the  practical  com- 
mon-sense, and  to  the  bare,  bald,  calculating  utili- 
tarianism of  habit,  which  grow  with  the  growth  of 
intelligence  and  faculty,  as  it  is  offensive  to  the 
finer  instincts  and  perceptions  that  grow  in  the 
same  ])rocess.  Will  you  tell  me  that  there  is  no 
hope  of  the  evolution  of  a  state  of  sentiment  in 
society  which  will  put  checks  upon  this  objectless, 
ostentatious  consumption,  by  holding  it  in  derision 
and  contempt,  thus  destroying  the  one  small,  mean 
motive  behind  it-tmd  making  it  abortive  ?  I  believe 
differently.  I  know  that  there  is  a  quicker  sen- 
sitiveness in  mankind  to  imputations  of  vulgarity 
than  to  imputations  of  inunorality.  I  know  that 
it  is  easier  to  attach  social  disgrace  to  the  doings 
of  things  which  impugn  the  polite  culture  of  men 


ii_ 


FOURTH  EVENIXG. 


VZl 


than  to  the  doing  of  things  wliich  inij)ugn  their 
virtue  or  their  honesty.  1  know,  tlierel'ore,  thut 
the  poverty  of  taste,  the  poverty  of  resource,  the 
poverty  of  capacity  for  enjoyment,  whicli  exhibit 
themselves  in  an  aimless,  ostentatious  consump- 
tion of  wealth,  will  become  contem})tibleaud  ridic- 
ulous in  our  society  long  before  the  vices  of  ap- 
petite and  taste  which  consume  wealth  unworthily 
and  sinfullv  are  dis<j:raced  and  coiulennied.  1  have 
hope  of  seeing,  even  before  my  days  are  ended, 
the  coming  of  the  time  when  a  great  house,  built 
for  no  uses  of  hospitality — a  great  house  of  closed 
chambers — a  great  house  full  of  splendors  out  of 
which  the  possessor  enjoys  nothing  except  the 
poor  consciousness  of  possession — will  be  looked 
upon  as  the  monument  of  a  l)arbarian  who  has 
survived  beyond  his  age.  Yet  I  have  no  hope  of 
seeing  in  my  time  the  extermination  of  immoral 
profligacy.  Such  is  the  difference  of  controllabil- 
ity, in  my  view,  between  the  two  kinds  of  wasteful 
consumption. 

"  And  it  ought  to  be  so.  Any  robust,  positive 
vice,  out  of  which  grow  evil  appetites  and  perni- 
cious desires,  is  more  tolerable  than  the  nothingness 
of  ostentation,  as  a  consumer  of  the  wealth  of  the 
world.  I  would  have  this  preached  as  the  gospel 
of  social  economy,  until  society  is  taught  to  exact 
from  its  members  some  account  of  their  consump- 
tion of  the  products  of  its  labor;  whether  morally 


138 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


V 


eutisfac'torj  or  not — whether  a'stlietieally  natisfac- 
tury  or  not — whether  sensually  satisfactory  or  not; 
exacting,  simply,  that  there  shall  be  objects  of  de- 
sire of  some  kind  to  account  for  their  consump- 
tion. The  world  needs  nothing  nearer  to  coni- 
n»  nil  ism  than  that.  It  has  enougli  to  alford  to 
every  man  the  gratitlcation  of  all  wants,  all  desires, 
and  all  tastes,  that  he  can  make  himself  capable  of 
deriving  enjoyment  from,  either  by  cultivation  or 
by  vitiation — no  matter  what  their  nature  or  their 
extravagance  may  be — if  he  will  only  make  these 
the  measure  of  his  consumption  and  not  consume 
aindessly  and  wantoidy  beyond  them."' 

The  judge  paused,  and  I  said  to  him  :  "  AVhat 
then  ?  You  have  satistied  me  that  there  may  be 
Bome  restraint  put  upon  the  wanton  waste  of 
■wealth  in  ostentatious  consumjition,  by  vulgarizing 
it  in  public  opinion;  but  what  then  ^  You  will 
only  have  changed  the  direction  of  expenditure, 
and  stimulated  the  cultivation  of  wants  and  de- 
sires to  absorb  that  which  was  consumed  without 
desire  before." 

"  Xot  so,"  he  replied.  '"In  the  nature  and  in 
the  cultivation  of  every  man  there  are  limits  to  the 
consumption  of  wealth  which  can  yield  enjoyment 
to  him,  if  you  su})press  ostentation,  or  that  which 
the  keen  perceptions  of  his  fellows  will  detect  as 
pretension  and  ostentation.  And  this  is  es])<^cially 
true  of  those  men  who  make  the  accpiisition  of 


FOURTri  E  VEXING. 


120 


wcaltli  an  end  in  life.  Tlicy  leave  tlieiuselves  lit- 
tle time  for  the  cultivation  of  lar^e  tastes,  lar^e 
desires  or  large  ('a[)a('ities  for  personal  enjc  ynient 
of  any  kind.  Not  only  that,  hut  the  natural  tastes 
and  desires  in  them  lose  their  ed<j^e.  There  is  one 
passion  only  in  them  that  can  make  houndless  de- 
mands uj)(>n  wealth  for  its  «rratifi('ation,  and  that  is 
the  love  of  power.  I'ut  wealth  yields  power  to  the 
possessor  of  it  within  limits  that  are  very  narrow 
if  it  is  not  prod»ictively  used,  as  hy  the  Rothschilds 
and  the  Yanderl.»iits,  instead  of  heing  wastefuUy 
consumed.  As  you  discourage  among  men,  there- 
fore, the  vain  showing  of  wealth,  by  making  that 
vulgar  and  despicable,  you  drive  them  into  finding 
potent  uses  for  it,  and  thus  you  throw  a  vast  part 
of  what  had  been  wastefully  consumed,  by  bar> 
baric  ostentation,  into  the  fund  of  productive  capi- 
tal.    Is  not  that  so?  " 

I  was- forced  to  assent. 

"  We  have  gone  far  enough,  then,  for  tonight," 
said  the  judge.  "  We  set  out  to  discover  how,  and 
from  wluit  sources,  the  fund  of  capital  is  suscep- 
tible of  an  increase  that  will  enlarge  the  dividends 
to  productive  labor,  without  disturljing  the  social 
organization  in  which  wealth  is  unecpially  dis- 
tributed, and  without  impairing  the  inducements 
to  the  accumulation  of  wealth.  I  think  that  I 
have  partly,  though  not  wholly  \v\,  answered  your 
questions  on  this  point.    We  have  seen  what  room 


V 


130 


TALKS  A  no  FT  LA  110  R. 


11 

ijii 


for  Ruch  an  increase  is  made  bv  nieclianical  imilti- 
plications  of  tlie  ])ro(lii('tiveness  of  labor,  mid  by 
tlie  relative  diminution  of  animals  Avbich  compete 
Avitb  man  for  subsistence  from  tlie  earth,  and  you 
bavca«^reed  with  me  that  it  is  ])ossible  to  cultivate 
a  state  (►f  feeling  in  society  Mhich  will  restrain 
that  kind  of  unproductive  consum])tion  that  wastes 
wealth  in  the  empty  ostentatioti  of  it.  Let  us 
leave  the  matter  here  till  to-morrow  evening,  and 
then  we  will  take  up  the  '  wages-fund '  in  the 
light  of  these  facts." 

So  we  parted  for  the  night. 


Firm  EVENIX(J. 


ABOUT   TIIK    WAYS    AND   MKXN>i   OK   JUSTICi:. 

The^"Wap..s.r,.n.l"aml  tho  Waf,'03  Systom._Th.  r„„mu,u 
Crnpoiisation  F.in.l"  whi.-I.  inav  bo  suI.sfitut.Ml  iu  I'„litiril 
Econ(.n,y._K«W.,s  „f  rart.i.Tship  botwoon  Labor  un.l  Capi- 
tal.-ltH  Pnu'tieabic  I{(-i„ni„^,s  and  its  Ultitnate  Cense- 
quoncos.— Loanable  Capital  and  rublio  Debts.— Ti.e  Jud-e's 
Now  I'aity.—Malthus  and  the  Far  Future. 

"^ow,"  said  tlic  judge,  wlicii  wo  were  sojited 
togx^ther  a-ain,  "let  us  Uj,  if  we  can,  to  reach  tl.o 
end  of  our  discussiou  to-iii<.ht,  for  I  am  afraid  that 
It  IS  growiiicr  tiresome.  We  liave  got  tlie  way 
I'l'ettj  well  cleared  before  us,  and  ought  to  go  over 
the  remaining  ground  more  ra})idly. 

"I  do  not  pretend,  you  understand,  to  liave  the 
solution  of  tliis  great  labor-question  formulated  in 
any  social  theory.  I  do  not  pretend  to  la>  down 
a  scheme  of  doctrine  for  any  school  or  any  party 
of  social  reform.  I  am  only  trying  to  discover  the 
facts  which  underlie  the  problem  and  the  princi- 
ples which  bear  upon  it,  and  to  contribute,  if  I 
can,  some  help  toward  opening  it  to  proper  study. 


1 


133  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIi. 

I  know  tliat  it  is  not  a  subject  for  legislation,  either 
in  j)arlianients  or  in  parties,  nor  a  thing  to  be  ar- 
bitrarily dealt  with  in  any  way.  There  are  no 
solvents  for  it  unless  we  can  find  them  in  public 
opinion,  and  my  hope  is  in  the  appeal  to  that.  I 
\,  ant  to  see  given  to  the  question  the  moral  aspects 
which  belong  to  it,  along  with  the  economical 
ones,  holding  the  two  together  so  that  their  modi- 
fication of  one  another  may  be  seen.  It  has  been 
looked  at  too  long  from  the  opposite  standpoints 
of  the  philanthropist  and  the  political  economist. 
I  would  like,  if  I  can,  to  study  it  with  the  eyes  of 
both;  to  clearly- take  in  the  hard  environment  of 
view  to  which  political  economy  is  reF-.ricted,  and 
yet  to  do  so  without  standing  quite  dawn  at  the 
level  of  dead  facts,  but  lifted  just  so  far  into  the 
region  of  sentiment  that  1  may  possibly  see  some- 
thing behind  and  bej'ond,  and  find  if  there  are 
moral  forces  lying  latent  there  which  may  be  ca- 
pable of  ameliorating  that  environment  of  hard 
conditions. 

"I  am  convinced  that  there  are  such  forces, 
and  that  they  may  be  brought  into  gradual  activity 
by  a  steady  propagation  of  just  notions  in  society 
concerning  labor  and  ca})ital,  and  concerning  the 
acquisition  and  consumption  p.nd  use  of  wealth. 
Not  in  the  spirit  of  ranting  demagoguism,  nor 
of  fanatical,  unreasoning  philanthropy,  so  called, 
but  in  the  spirit  of  rational  justice  and  of  that  prac- 


ill: 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 


133 


tical,  every-day  common-sense  in  mankind  which  is 
becoming  all-powerfnl. 

"  The  doctrine  of  the  '  wages-fund '  in  political 
economy  rests  solidly  npon  stubborn  facts.  But 
let  us  look  at  the  nature  of  the  facts.  '  Wages,' 
Bays  Mr.  John  Stuart  Mill,  '  not  only  depend  upon 
the  relative  amount  of  capital  and  population,  but 
cannot,  under  the  rule  of  competition,  be  affected 
by  anything  else.  AVages  (meaning,  of  course,  tlie 
general  rate)  cannot  rise  but  by  an  increase  of  the 
aggregate  funds  employed  in  hiring  laborers,  or  a 
diminution  in  the  number  of  competitors  for  hire ; 
nor  fall  except  either  by  a  diminution  of  the  funds 
devoted  to  paying  labor,  or  by  an  increase  of  the 
number  of  lal)orers  to  be  paid.'  Xow,  this  is  true 
— unquestionably  true.  But  what  then  ?  We  are 
not  compelled  to  assume,  as  the  political  econo- 
mists incline  to  do,  that  there  is  no  possibility  of 
forciufj;  a  relative  increase  of  the  a<?<>Te<>'ate  funds 
employed  in  production.  AVe  miglit  have  to  as- 
sume that,  if  we  could  find  no  sources  from  which 
to  derive  such  an  inci'ease  of  the  fund  of  capital, 
without  interfering  with  the  ordinary  springs  and 
motivx^s  of  human  action.  If  it  could  not  be  had 
without  curtailing  the  gratification  of  wants  and 
desires  and  tastes,  on  the  part  of  those  who  com- 
mand at  will  the  consumption  of  labor  and  its 
products,  we  could  not  reasonably  argue  npon  any 
other  assumption.     But  we  havf  "^ound  differently. 


V 


134 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


\  ' 


V 


We  have  found  that  the  aiigmented  productiveness 
of  labor,  since  mechanical  invention  became  ac- 
tive, actually  outruns  the  desires  of  that  minority 
in  society  which  has  so  far  monopolized  most  of 
the  benefit  from  it,  and  that  there  is  a  sickening 
wastefulness  of  consumption  without  object  going 
on,  which  is  plainly  susceptible  of  being  restrained 
by  the  influences  that  are  developed  in  the  prog- 
ress of  human  culture.  In  contemplating  these 
influences  as  available  forces  in  social  economy 
we  contemplate  no  opposition  to  human  nature, 
but  are  sti'ictly  in  consonance  with  it.  AYe  have 
a  right  then,  I  say,  to  assume  that  some  relative 
increment  of  tlie  aggregate  fund  of  wealth  appro- 
priated to  productive  labor  is  possible,  and  we 
have  no  right  to  assume  the  coiitrar3\ 

''  ]S^ow  comes  the  question, '  ITow  can  constraint 
be  brought  upon  those  who  hold  possession  o^ 
wealth,  to  compel  them  to  add  more  of  it  year  by 
year  to  the  capital-fund,  instead  of  consuming  it?' 
Well,  it  cannot  be  done  under  the  existing '  wages 
system.'  The  political  economists  are  right  in 
that.  '  So  long  as  the  pay  of  the  working-man  con- 
tinues to  be  a  fixed  qiumtity,  it  will  continue  to 
be  very  near  the  lowest  quantity  at  which  equi- 
librium is  established  between  his  necessities  and 
the  ii'aiuful  desires  of  the  man  of  wealth  who  em- 
ploys  him.  So  long  as  the  capitalists  think  it  right 
to  hold  and  use  their  dictatorial  power  in  produc- 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 


135 


tion,  and  tlie  working-man  is  nothing  more  than 
one  troublesome  factor  out  of  several  in  their  pro- 
ductive calcuhitions,  it  is  certain  that  the  ligui'es 
which  represent  him  in  the  calculation  are  not 
likely  to  chano-e  much  in  his  favor.  The  x  which 
stands  for  quantity  of  capital  to  be  appropriated 
to  production  will  bear  a  pretty  constant  ratio  to 
the  y  which  stands  for  quantity  of  dependent 
labor,  divided  by  the  z  which  represents  the  degree 
to  which  it  is  dependent.  But  change  the  r-ila- 
tionship  of  the  laborer  to  the  capitalist,  from  that 
of  hire  to  that  of  partnership — no  matter  by  how 
slight  an  alteration — and  see  how  the  formula  of 
the  calculation  is  changed!  lie  escapes  at  once 
from  under  the  rule-of-three  by  which  you  settled 
waijes  for  him.  He  is  no  lono-er  a  factor  in  the 
simple  division  of  your  '  wages-fund ; '  you  have 
to  reckon  him  now  among  the  primary  factors  in 
the  general  division  of  the  general  product  of 
labor.  He  has  acquired  what  he  did  not  have  be- 
fore— a  certain  proprietary  interest  in  the  aggre- 
gate fund  of  produced  wealth,  and  has  to  be  ac- 
counted to  for  his  interest  before  the  question,  as 
to  how  much  of  what  has  been  produced  this  year 
shall  be  dedicated  to  production  next  year,  becomes 
an  open  question  at  all.  He  has  acquired  his  suf- 
frage, so  to  speak,  in  the  matter  of  the  allotment 
to  be  made  between  productive  and  unproductive 
consumption. 


13G 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


"  AYe  can  see  this  plainly  enough  in  an  indi- 
vidual case,  and  can  see  with  what  effect  it  op- 
erates to  niodify  the  conditions  of  the  distribution 
of  the  products  of  labor  and  to  change  the  terms 
of  the  daily  or  yearly  apj^ropriation  made  out  of 
them  to  the  capital  fund.  Here  is  our  young 
friend  John,  for  example,  receiving  wages,  I  be- 
lieve— or  a  salary,  if  that  sounds  better — from  his 
employers.  He  is  paid  for  his  work  a  fixed  com- 
j)ensation,  which  is  chiefly  determined  by  the  ex- 
isting d  uiand  for,  and  supply  of,  such  services  as 
he  is  (puilifled  to  perform.  lie  draws  it  from 
what  Mr.  Mill  calls  '  the  fund  employed  in  hiring 
labor,'  and  there  are  limitations  put  upon  it  by  the 
limits  of  that  fund.  Lut  suppose  that  next  year 
his  employers,  who  think  higldy  of  him  and  feel 
friendly  toward  him,  and  who  desire  to  attach  him 
pernumently  in  interest  to  themselves,  admit  him 
to  a  junior  partnership  in  the  concern,  turning 
over  to  him  a  certain  minor  sliai'e  of  their  property 
and  business,  which  he  is  to  pay  for,  perhaps,  out 
of  the  earnings.  He  will  have  ceased  then,  will 
he  not,  to  draw  his  remuneration  for  work  out  of 
the  'wages-fund?'  lie  will  have  ceased  to  par- 
ticipate in  that  drawing  of  fixed  shares  from  the 
aggregate  product  of  labor  Avhich  we  call  wages- 
paying,  and  will  have  become  a  participant  in  the 
division  of  that  indefinite  remainder  out  of  which 
the  appropriations  to  capital   have  chiefly  to  be 


jij 


FIFTH  EVExma. 


137 


made.  lie  will  liav^e  become,  therefore,  an  abso- 
lute instead  of  a  relative  factor  in  the  division  of 
the  product,  lie  will  have  been  lifted  out  of  de- 
pendence upon  the  'wages-fund,'  into  a  relation- 
ship toward  the  whole  fund  of  produced  wealth 
which  is  potentially  independent ;  and  that  will 
have  been  a  great  gain  for  Master  John,  even 
thouo:h  his  dividends  from  the  earnings  of  the 


'»' 


business  should  l)e  no  greater  than  his  wages  are 
now. 

"  lie  will  have  owed  it,  too,  to  a  generous  con- 
cession on  the  part  of  his  employers ;  that  is,  if  he 
has  no  capital  to  put  into  their  business  equivalent 
to  the  partnership  in  it  which  they  concede  to  him. 
No  doubt  they  will  have  been  actuated  by  consid- 
erable motives  of  self-interest  in  the  matter.  Xo 
doubt  they  will  have  expected  to  gain  some  relief 
from  care  and  exertion  for  themselves,  and  to  gain 
some  energy  in  the  prosecution  and  management 
of  their  business,  by  infusing  young  blood  into 
the  proprietorship.  But  still  there  will  have  been 
a  strong  element  of  magnanimity  in  the  conces- 
sion. They  are  under  no  necessity  to  make  it,  and 
if  they  are  men  of  mean  selfishness  they  will  not 
make  it.  They  will  try,  on  the  contrary,  to  retain 
John's  services  under  hire  as  long  as  they  can,  and 
then,  when  he  will  work  for  wages  no  longer,  to 
find  some  one  else  of  like  capacity  and  fidelity,  but 
more  dependent  than  he,  to  take  his  place.     They 


138  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

prefer,  how  ver,  as  we  suppose,  to  unite  John  per- 
manently in  interest  with  themselves,  and  it  is 
with  motives  partly  selfish  and  partly  genei'ons 
that  they  open  the  door  for  him  through  which 
he  steps  to  the  more  independent  footing-  of  a  pro- 
'  •  prietary  producer,  and  passes  at  once  outside  of 
the  domain  of  your  inexorable  law  of  the  '  wages- 
fund,'  because  he  becomes  then  one  of  the  admin- 
istratoi's  of  the  law. 

"jS^ow,  suppose  that  these  same  employers 
should  be  further  induced  by  like  considerations 
to  make  the  same  kind  of  concession,  in  some 
small  way,  to  every  other  man  in  their  employ, 
turning  over  to  him,  on  the  same  terms,  some  lit- 
tle share  of  interest  in  their  establishment — no 
matter  how  little — or  supplementing  his  wages  by 
some  slight  fraction  of  dividend  from  the  profits 
of  the  business — no  matter  how  slight;  would 
they  not,  then,  have  done  for  him,  proportion- 
ately, the  same  thing  which  they  had  done  for 
Master  John,  and  made  the  like  change  in  his  re- 
lations to  production  and  capital?  Would  they 
ill  not,  to  that  extent,  have  abrogated  in  their  estab- 

lishment the  law  of  the  '  wages-fund,'  and  intro- 
duced another  law,  to  which  the  appropriations 
made  from  production  to  capital  would  have  to 
conform  to  themselves  ? 

"  And,  then,  suppose  that  all  the  employers  in 
the  country  should  be  induced  to  do  the  same 


FIFTir  EVEXIXG. 


139 


tiling !  Wliat  woukl  liavo  liappeiied  '\  Why,  your 
'wages-fund'  would  have  disappeared  out  of  the 
calculations  of  political  economy,  because  it  would 
have  ceased  to  be  a  detinable  fund.  We  could  as 
well  talk  of  a  '  profit-fund,'  and  there  is  certaiidy 
no  such  thing  as  that,  in  any  definable  sense;  be- 
cause the  profits  of  capital  are  simply  that  remain- 
der of  the  product  of  labor  which  is  left  in  its 
possession,  after  giving  to  the  producing  laborers 
just  what  the  competition  of  their  necessities  will 
compel  them  to  accept.  In  the  case  su})posed,  we 
should  have  merged  the  whole  together  in  one 
common  '  compensation-fuiul.'  Witii  what  result^ 
Simply  this:  our  present  wages  system  establishes 
a  given  set  of  conditions,  to  which  production  has 
to  be  conformed,  and  there  is  reserved  from  con- 
sumption for  renewed  production  just  such  a  fund 
of  capital  as  those  conditions  exact.  If  we  intro- 
duced the  new  set  of  conditions  which  the  system 
of  dividends  contemplates,  they  would  be  just  as 
arbitrary  and  compulsoiy  ;  production  would  have 
to  be  adapted  to  them,  and  the  reserve  for  capital 
would  again  be  precisely  what  they  exact.  It 
could  not  be  otherwise." 

"  But  that  involves,  does  it  not,"  said  I,  "  a  re- 
duction of  the  profits  of  capital  corresponding  to 
the  addition  made  to  the  renmneration  of  labor  i " 

"No,  not  a  corresponding  retluction,"  returned 
the  judge.    "  No  doubt  it  involves  some  encroach- 


V 


140 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


il    ' 


li^ 


1  ! 


V 


mciit  upon  the  general  rate  of  profit  wliicli  capital 
now  enjoys  and  is  habituated  to  expect,  but  not  to 
the  extent  that  might  \)q  feared.  The  greater  part 
of  the  gain  to  the  working-man  will  ultimately  be 
an  absolute  and  clear  gain,  costing  the  capitalist 
nothing.  The  provision  for  it  will  be  found  in  an 
increase  of  product,  relatively  to  the  capital  em- 
ployed, resulting  from  the  stimulation  of  labor  by 
more  animating  and  energetic  motives.  We  can 
certainly  calculate  upon  that,  and  largely,  because 
we  know  what  self-interest  is  worth  as  a  stimulant 
of  human  exertion.  The  most  conscientious  man 
is  incapable,  as  a  rule,  of  constantly  doing  cpiite 
his  best  in  work  when  the  personal  benefit  to  him- 
self from  it  is  not  affected  by  small  differences  of 
industry  and  carefulness  and  watchful  attention. 
lie  may  try  to  exert  himself  for  another  with  the 
same  faithfulness  and  enei'gy  and  zeal  that  he 
would  for  himself,  but  he  cannot  always  do  it. 
Ke  is  betrayed  into  relaxations  of  spirit  which  he 
is  not  conscious  of.  Although  he  does  not  feel  it 
or  know  it,  there  is  the  want  in  him  of  one  elastic 
spring  of  action  tliat  would  keep  the  moral  mo- 
tives of  his  work  at  a  steadier  tension.  It  is  the 
knowledge  of  this  fact  in  human  nature  that  chiefly 
induces  employers  of  labt»r  to  do  that  which  we 
supposed  in  the  case  of  our  young  friend  John. 
13y  admitting  a  faithful  employe  into  partnership, 
or  by  holding  out  that  prospect  to  him,  they  cal- 


li 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 


141 


ciilate  upon  enlisting  a  new  motor  in  liiin  tliat  will 
reenforce  tlie  motives  of  conscience  and  add  ener<j^y 
to  his  wliole  performance  of  service.  And  the  cal- 
culation rarelv  fails. 

"2sow,  I  am  sure  that  the  same  effect  will  fol- 
low the  widest  application  of  the  experiment. 
J>ut  it  will  not  he  an  instantaneous  effect.  It  will 
follow  very  slowly,  perhaps,  and  the  experiment 
that  I  refer  to  canno^  be  otherwise  than  a  tentative 
and  gradual  one,  to  be  successful.  I  should  m)t 
dream  of  having  it  entered  upon  by  any  sudden 
and  universal  movement,  if  that  were  possible,  be- 
cause I  know  that  it  would  fail.  I  have  said  al- 
ready that  the  dependent  laboring-class,  as  a  b(jdy, 
needs  to  be  educated  for  it,  by  slow  and  careful 
l)ei>:innin«:s  in  the  introduction  of  the  new  svstem. 
It  is  inevitable  that  much  of  the  introductory  ex- 
perimenting will  be  abortive ;  but  that  offers  no 
discouragement,  if  we  convince  ourselves  that  the 
direction  taken  is  right.  My  wish  is  only  to  see  a 
movement  in  the  interest  of  the  laboring-people 
set  in  that  right  direction,  no  matter  how  slow  it 
may  be.  That  such  a  work  of  reform  must  \)Q\n\\ 
with  a  work  of  education  on  the  part  of  those  who 
are  to  benefit  by  it,  we  can  readily  see.  One  of 
the  main  elements  of  the  force  to  be  generated  in 
labor,  by  setting  independent  personal  interests 
and  personal  prospects  before  it,  is  that  of  am- 
bition or  aspiration,      ihit  there  ai'c  a  great  many 


1-13 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


laborers,  of  the  duller  sort,  who  are  obviously  not 
ca])able  of  feelin;i^  ambitious.  There  are  no  eulH- 
eient  aspirations  to  be  awakened  in  them.  There 
is  an  inheritance  in  them,  perhaps,  of  natures  blunt- 
ed through  many  generations  by  liard  conditions 
of  life.  There  are  many  others  who  may  be  ca- 
pable of  ambitious  sentiments,  but  who  are  not 
capable  of  the  provident  fore-calculation,  or  the 
postponement  of  desires  to  anticipations  and  the 
sacritice  of  present  ease  for  future  enjoyment, 
which  effective  andjition  involves.  These  large 
classes  are  almost  hopelessly  doomed  to  the  con- 
ditions of  the  present  labor  system.  It  will  be 
long  generations,  no  doubt,  before  they  can  be  ef- 
fectively acted  upon  by  any  stimulant  of  opportu- 
nity that  may  be  given  tliem.  But  it  is  needless, 
meantime,  that  all  the  rest  of  the  great  brother- 
hood of  labor  should  be  doomed  by  the  incapacity 
of  these.  It  is  not  necessary  that  the  leaden  weight 
of  one  stolid  part  shoidd  be  laid  on  the  whole  class 
to  hold  it  down.  Why  not  set  that  kind  of  a  sys- 
tem on  foot  which  shall  sift  out  the  enterprising 
from  the  inert  and  distinguish  those  who  are  capa- 
ble of  laying  hold  of  better  oppoi'tunities  in  life 
from  those  who  are  not  ?  Then  trust  that  emula- 
tion and  example  and  encouragement  and  hope 
will  work  like  a  slow  leaven  through  the  wdiole 
heavy  mass. 

"  If  I  made  any  proposition  on  the  subject,  I 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 


113 


slioiikl  propose  tliat,  for  tlio  bu^iiining  of  the  ex- 
periiiii'iit  of  dividends  to  hibor,  it  be  based  alto- 
gether U[)ou  the  expecitatioii  of  an  increased  prod- 
uct, relatively  to  ca])ital  eniplo}'ed,  and  be  carried 
only  so  far  as  that  expectation  may  be  realized.  h\ 
other  words,  that  the  employers  of  labor  be  per- 
suaded to  begin  to  say  to  their  employed  laborers 
this:  'We  are  deriving,  now,  a  certain  rate  of 
profit — say  the  average  of  past  years — from  the 
business  in  which  our  capital,  our  exertions  in  man- 
agement, and  your  labor,  are  engaged  together. 
This  is  the  compensation  which  seems  to  be  lix- 
ed  for  us  by  the  conditions  of  the  present  system 
of  simple  wages-paying.  AVe  are  accustomed  to  it, 
and  we  are  not  willing  either  to  exert  ours(>lves  or 
to  expose  our  capital  to  commercial  risks  for  less. 
But  if  you  will  make  the  rate  of  ])rotit  greater,  by 
working  with  more  energy  and  more  ethciency ;  by 
using  our  tools,  our  materials,  and  our  capital  in 
general  more  economically,  and  by  giving  more 
careful  attention  to  all  the  interests  in  which  you 
are  concerned  with  us,  we  will  divide  the  whole 
increase  of  profit  so  produced  among  you,  pro- 
portionately, as  near  as  may  be,  to  what  you  have 
severally  contributed  to  it.  We  will  take  to  our- 
selves, in  other  words,  no  more  than  the  renmner- 
ation  that  we  have  been  accustomed  to,  and  all  be- 
yond that  shall  be  yours.  We  will  pay  you  wages 
in   the   mean   time,   as   heretofore,  according   to 


!    1  ■:'•  1 
I     .1', 


144  TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 

the  market.  If  we  find  some  amonp^  you  who  arc 
mak.i!i<5  exertions  to  give  etlect  to  tliis  propoyition 
and  others  wlio  are  not,  we  sliall  not  ])erinit  the 
hitter  to  steal  tlie  benelit  of  the  exertions  of  the 
former.  We  sluill  get  rid  of  tlieni  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. We  shall  try  to  tind  men  to  take  their 
places  who  will  cooperate  with  their  fellows  and 
with  us  in  this  experiment,  or  else  we  shall  try,  in 
conjunction  with  the  better  workmen,  to  adjust  a 
scale  of  wages,  or  a  system  of  piece-work,  in  which 
the  relative  value  of  the  labor  of  each  workman 
shall  be  fairly  measured,  to  determine  his  share  of 
the  proposed  dividend.' 

"  Now,  I  have  no  doubt  that  this  might  be  tried 
with  good  effect  to  the  working-men,  and  not  only 
with  no  risk,  but  with  much  benefit,  to  the  employ- 
ing capitalists.  I  have  no  doubt  that  those  who 
adopted  it  would  find  themselves  placed  at  an  ad- 
vantage in  competition  with  those  who  did  not. 
They  would  win  to  themselves  the  best  workmen  ; 
their  business  would  be  more  easily  conducted  and 
extended,  and  its  management  would  impose  upon 
them  less  care  and  less  exertion.  Kor  have  I  any 
doubt  that  the  beginning  of  such  a  movement  on 
the  side  of  the  employers  would  be  responded  to 
very  quickly  on  the  side  of  the  better  and  more 
ambitious  working-men,  by  a  movement  toward 
raising  the  standard  of  character  and  workman- 
ship in  their  several  tiades,  ami  towai'd  combining 


hfth  evexixq. 


145 


hi 

to 
re 
d 


WO 


iiKlividiialism  witli  cortporation.  They  would  bo 
prompted  to  throw  their  iiithienoe  Ui^ainst  that 
fatal  policy  in  the  trades-imioiis  which  estahlisliea 
a  mean  level  of  mediocrity  and  shiftlessiiess,  which 
repret:ses  am1>itioii,  crushes  personal  freedom,  and 
wears  out  all  the  energ-ies  there  are  in  the  stru<j:i;'lo 
that  la])or  makes  for  better  conditions,  by  harness- 
ing  them  to  dead  loads  of  incapability  aud  laziness. 
They  would  exert  themselves  to  make  the  trade- 
union  what  it  might  be — the  oi'gani/ed  govern- 
ment of  a  craft ;  powerful  to  maintain  justice  and 
liberty  among  its  members;  to  secure  for  each  the 
largest  exercise  of  his  capabilities ;  to  stimulate  in 
each  the  highest  ambition  ;  to  dignify  to  every  one 
the  estimate  of  his  avocation ;  to  fix  just  stand- 
ards of  qnalitication  and  obligation,  and  to  enforce 
just  rules  of  apprenticeship,  despising  every  other 
attempt  than  that  to  narrow  the  doors  of  admission 
to  any  trade.  I  believe,  as  I  live,  that  snch  results 
as  these  would  follow,  and  I  do  not  believe  that 
the  blind  mischief  which  the  labor-unions  of  the 
present  time  are  doing,  both  to  labor  and  capital, 
can  be  arrested  in  any  other  way  than  by  the  invi- 
tation and  encouragement  of  something  diiferent 
from  an  unmixed  wages  system.  AYhat  do  you 
think  ? " 

"  It  looks  reasonable,"  said  I.     "  It  is  reason- 
able.    I  cannot  see  the  least  room  for  doubtini? 
that  you  are  right.     But,  if  nothing  beyond  pres- 
7 


14G 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


ii 


II 


V 


ent  wa":es  is  to  be  distributable  amons;  the  labor- 
ers  except  just  tlic  increase  of  product  to  which 
their  labor  may  be  stimulated,  the  gain  to  them, 
although  considerable,  cannot  be  all  that  tinal 
equity,  in  your  view,  demands.  According  to 
what  yon  have  said,  you  evidently  contemplate 
something  more  in  the  end." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  was  his  reply;  "we  must  not  dis- 
guise the  fact  that  ultimately  something  more  is 
involved,  if  we  once  introduce  the  principle  of  divi- 
dends to  labor,  and  give  recognition  to  it  on  even 
the  smallest  scale.  There  is  no  question  in  my 
mind  that  it  will  finally  involve  a  considerable  re- 
duction of  the  profits  of  capital.  The  pressure  of 
the  principle,  systematically  oi'ganized,  will  steadi- 
ly force  them  down.  Ihit  it  is  veiy  plain  to  me 
that  there  is  anq^le  room  for  such  a  reduction  of 
profits,  from  their  present  average  rate,  as  will  af- 
ford all  the  addition  that  is  needful  and  just  to  the 
compensations  of  labor,  without  impairing  at  all 
the  strength  of  the  motives  on  which  the  accumu- 
lation and  empk)yment  of  capital  depend.  Let  us 
look  at  them : 

"  The  payment  which  the  employing  capitalist 
demands  from  the  production  to  which  his  capital 
is  a])plied  is  made  up  of  three  parts.  There  is — 
1.  The  j>ayment  to  him  for  having  refrained,  dur- 
ing successive  years,  from  the  entire  consumption 
of  his  ac(piisitions  of  wealth,  and  for  having  saved 


FIFTH  EYENINQ, 


147 


and  accumulated  them  and  employed  them  pro- 
ductively— which  Mr.  Senior  has  happily  called 
'die. remuneration  of  abstinence.'  Tliere  is — 2. 
The  payment  to  him  for  risks  of  loss,  which  are 
taken  in  nearly  all  employments  of  capital,  owing 
to  the  casualties  and  uncertainties  of  production 
and  trade.  There  is — 3.  The  payment  to  him, 
w^hen  he  is  the  manager  of  his  own  capital,  for  his 
personal  executive  services  in  connection  with  it. 

The  first  of  these  payments — that  for  the  re- 
muneration of  abstinence — seems  to  diminish  as 
the  state  of  civilization  advances,  as  the  accunm- 
lation  of  capital  increases,  and  as  the  effective  de- 
sire of  accumulation  is  developed.  That  it  is 
capable  of  l)eing  reduced  very  low,  without  dis- 
couraging the  abstinence  which  augments  caj^ital, 
we  have  jj-ood  evidence  in  the  world  alreadv.  We 
have  an  exact  measure  of  it  in  the  current  rate  of 
interest  on  money  that  is  loaned  out  U])on  such 
security  that  no  risk  attends  the  loaning.  Gov^- 
ernmcnt  loans,  in  countries  where  a  state  of  politi- 
cal stability  is  well  assured,  are  of  that  character. 
The  element  of  risk  is  so  nearly  eliminated  from 
such  investments  of  capital  that  there  is  no  need 
of  reckoning  it  at  all.  It  is  about  the  same  with 
safe  loans  on  mortgage,  and  with  some  personal 
investments,  also,  in  property  which  cannot  be  im- 
paired under  any  pi'obable  contingency.  Xow,  the 
rate  of  interest  on  2)ermanent  or  prolonged  loans 


148 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


of  the  kind  described  has  fallen  in  England  and 
Holland  to  two  and  three  per  cent.,  and  those  are 
countries  in  which  the  motives  that  produce  an 
accumulation  of  capital  seem  to  be  more  eneroetic 
than  in  almost  any  others.  This  low  rate  of  in- 
terest represents  the  minimum  reward  which  will 
constitute,  in  those  countries,  a  sufficient  induce- 
ment to  abstinence  from  the  present  consumption 
of  wealth,  and  a  sufficient  encouragement,  there- 
fore, to  that  cumulative  employment  of  labor 
which  produces  capital. 

"  As  for  the  second  ground  of  payment  to  capi- 
tal, which  is  for  the  risk  of  its  destruction,  when 
employed  as  in  manufactures  or  in  trade,  the  haz- 
ards to  which  it  is  exposed  are  of  two  kinds.  Tt 
may  be  absolutely  destroyed  and  go  out  of  exist- 
ence, both  as  wealth  and  capital,  by  casualties  of 
lire.  Hood,  shipwreck,  etc. ;  or,  only  the  right  of 
property  which  the  investor  had  in  it  may  be  de- 
stroyed, through  the  vicissitudes  of  commerce,  so 
that  it  passes  into  other  hands,  either  to  be  unpro- 
ductively  consumed  or  to  be  still  used  as  capital 
with  a  change  of  ownership  merely.  The  value  of 
the  iirst-named  class  of  risks  has  been  found  sus- 
ceptible, for  the  most  part,  of  very  exact  calcu- 
lation, under  the  averaging  law  of  chances,  and  it 
is  set  down  in  the  rates  of  insurance.  1'he  capi- 
talist almost  always  transfers  that  class  of  risks  to 
those  who  have  made  a  special  business  of  taking 


1 


FIFTH  EVEN^IXG. 


149 


them,  and  liis  payments  for  insurance  are  cliarged 
into  the  expenses  of  his  own  proper  business,  so 
that  remuneration  for  these  risks  is  no  part,  gen- 
ei-ally  speaking,  of  the  profit  wliieh  he  demands  to 
compensate  him  for  his  emph)yment  of  capital. 
The  vaUie  of  the  risk,  moreover,  is  slight — sur- 
prisingly slight,  now  that  our  underwriting  arith- 
metic has  reduced  it  to  a  precise  com])utation. 
Of  the  second  class  of  risks,  the  greater  part  are 
incident  to  the  character  and  conduct  of  the  in- 
vestor of  capital,  and  attach  so  entirely  to  himself 
that  he  has  no  fair  reason  for  makiuij^  a  charge 
against  the  cotnmunity  on  account  of  them.  Not 
all  of  them,  to  be  sure,  for  there  are  elements  of 
uncertainty  in  production  and  trade  which  elude  all 
forecalculation,  and  some  liberal  allowance  is  to  be 
made  for  these ;  but  it  is  unquestionably  true  that 
the  investor  of  capital  in  productive  or  commercial 
enterprises  risks  far  more  upon  his  own  knowledge, 
his  own  judgment,  his  own  alertness  of  perception, 
his  own  economical  vio-ilance,  his  own  calculating: 
faculties  and  his  own  prudence,  than  in  any  other 
wfty.  I  venture  to  say  that  seven-tenths,  at  least, 
of  all  the  losses  and  failures  that  occur  in  the  manu- 
facturing and  mercantile  world  are  due  to  one  or 
the  other  of  the  foUowing  causes,  or  to  all  of  them 
combined:  1.  The  want  of  a  sufficiently  wide 
knowledge  of  the  conditions  of  the  business  pur- 
sued, or  inattention  to  the  changes  of  the  facts 


V 


150 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


^ 


wliicli  bccar  upon  it :  2.  Miscalculation  from  tlie 
facts  known,  either  throiif^li  careless  or  incompe- 
tent reckoning.  3.  Thriftless  and  wasteful  man- 
agement, due  to  the  want  of  Avatchful  executive 
force.  4.  Ill-judged  confidence  in  others — extend- 
ing credit  incautiously  and  unwisely.  6.  Heckless 
speculation,  or  taking  chances  of  the  market  which 
are  illegitimate,  because  outside  of  the  realm  of  ra- 
tional calculation.  6.  Last  and  greatest  of  all — 
personal  extravagance,  or  personal  consumption  in 
excess  of  any  reasonable  reckoning  of  business  prof- 
its. Now,  these  are  all  sources  of  risk  which  lie 
within  the  control  of  the  investor  of  capital,  and 
which  cannot  be  propei-ly  charged  for  in  the  de- 
mand for  profits  upon  capital  invested  and  man- 
aged by  the  owner.  The  risks  which  lie  outside 
are  comparatively  small. 

"  Finally,  we  have  the  payment  to  be  made 
for  the  personal  executive  services  of  the  capital- 
ist and  business  manager.  I  am  willing  to  put  a 
liberal  estimate  upon  these,  but  not  to  rate  them 
extravagantly  beyond  the  compensations  paid  for 
all  other  kinds  of  service.  To  the  man  of  busi- 
ness, ordinarily,  his  business  is  his  pleasure,  its  oc- 
cupations his  delight,  lie  pm'sues  it,  ordinarily, 
even  after  the  merelv  scainful  desires  have  ceased 
to  act  with  any  strong  stimulation  upon  him.  lie 
has  no  other  sufficient  field  of  activity  open  to 
him;  he  has  no  other  sufficient  resources  of  en- 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 


151 


jojment.  AVitliout  tlie  occupations  of  his  busi- 
ness lie  would  be  wretched.  1  aui  sure,  therefore, 
that  no  extraordinary  remuneration  is  needed  to 
induce  men  of  business  fa.  ^♦^ies  to  employ  tlieir 
faculties,  and  I  see  no  reasoi.  „^.y  their  compensa- 
tion for  personal  services  should  exceed,  at  most, 
the  higher  salaries  paid  in  j^i^blic  and  professional 
life. 

"  Looking,  therefore,  at  all  the  parts  of  the 
payment  made  to  the  capitalist,  in  the  form  of 
profits,  I  conclude  that  there  is  room  for  a  consid- 
erable reduction  in  their  rate  without  weakening 
the  inducements  to  abstinence,  by  which  capital  is 
accumulated,  or  weakening  the  inducement  of 
risks  in  the  employment  of  capital,  or  weakening 
the  inducements  to  exertion  in  the  management 
of  capital.  If  the  general  introduction  of  a  sys- 
tem of  dividends  to  labor  should  result  in  the  par- 
titioning of  something  less  than  twenty  or  iiftcen 
or  eyen  ten  per  cent,  of  the  total  product  of  labor 
to  the  business-managing  capitalist  for  his  protit, 
I  am  confident  that  the  efficiency  of  the  forces 
which  political  economy  takes  account  of  would 
not  be  at  all  impaired.  The  conscrpience  of  such 
a  system  would  simply  be,  that  the  minimum 
measure  of  the  inducements  nnder  which  capital 
can  be  accumulated  and  em})loyed  would  be  found ; 
and  that  would  be  the  realization  of  justice  be- 
tween .capital  and  labor." 


Y 


15-2 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


A 


"  But,  for  tlie  bringing  about  of  this  state  of 
things."  said  T,  "  you  look  to  nothing  except  tlie 
growths  of  public  sentiment  and  opinion  which 
you  have  alluded  to,  from  time  to  time,  in  our 
discussion  'i  " 

"  To  nothing  else,"  he  answered,  "  except  in 
one  direction.  There  is  one  direction,  only,  in 
which  I  would  invoke  the  aid  of  legislation.  To 
that  single  end  I  would  make  the  question  a  po- 
litical one,  and,  if  I  had.  in  me  any  of  the  qualities 
of  an  agitator,  I  would  go  among  the  working-men 
and  set  np  in  their  midst  the  standard  of  a  new 
party,  to  be  organized  upon  that  solitary  issue,  and 
I  would  try  to  rally  them  about  it  until  they  had 
fouglit  the  issue  out  in  every  country  under  the 
sun.  '  I  would  rally  them,  if  I  could,  as  a  class,  in 
uncompromising  hostility  to  all  public  debt-mak- 
-  ing,  of  every  kind,  whether  national  or  municipal. 
I  would  have  them  demand,  and  combine  to  en- 
force their  demand,  that  the  power  to  contract 
-A  /^  ^  debt  be  absolutely  taken  away  from  every  branch 
^'  *  and.  division  of  government — from  Congress  and 

Parliament  down — unless  taxation  to  pay  the  debt, 
within  three  or  five  years  at  most,  shall  precede 
or  go  with  the  debt-making  act.  To  accomplish 
that  abolition  of  debt-making  power  in  govern- 
ment would  be  the  greatest  triumph  ever  won  in 
the  interest  of  labor.     I  will  tell  you  why. 

"  We  have  seen  at  what  a  multiplying  rate  pro- 


\! 


FIFTH  EVEmNO. 


153 


ductiou  lias  increased  during  tlie  past  Imndred 
years,  and  is  increasing.  AYe  have  seen,  too,  how 
easy  it  is,  under  tlie  present  system  of  things,  for 
enormous  accumulations  of  the  wealth  thus  in- 
weasingly  produced  to  be  gathei'ed  into  individual 
hands.  IS^ow,  an  always-growing  share  of  these 
accumulations  is  held  by  owners  who  cannot  or 
who  do  not  wish  to  employ  it  productively  them- 
selves, although  they  are  eager  to  preserve  it  as  a 
profitable  fund,  unimpaired  by  their  own  consump- 
tion. This  constitutes  the  loanable  capital  of  the 
world,  and  its  quantity,  as  I  have  said,  is  being  pro- 
digiously augmented.  There  is  a  fast-increasing 
number  of  men  who  hold  more  wealth,  outside  of 
their  consumption,  than  they  can  possibly  use  ])ro- 
ductively  under  their  own  management ;  there  is 
another  fast-increasing  nundjer  of  men  who  desire 
to  escape  from  the  cares,  exertions,  and  risks  of 
the  management  of  property  productively  em- 
ployed ;  and,  again,  there  is  more  and  more  in- 
herited wealth  existing,  in  estates,  where  it  is  so 
situated  that,  for  one  reason  or  another,  it  cannot 
be  productively  employed  by  the  owners  In  person. 
All  these  people  resort  to  the  loaning  of  their 
wealth,  at  interest,  as  the  means  of  making  it  pro- 
ductive of  income  to  themselves  without  personal 
exertion,  and  of  course  they  seek,  in  doing  so,  to 
avoid  risks  and  to  get  the  utmost  security  they  can, 
either  for  the  final  replacement  to  them   of  the 


154 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


wealth  wliic'h  tliey  have  given  out  of  their  own 
keeping,  or  for  the  certainty  and  permanency  of 
the  interest-payments  that  are  to  be  made  to  them 
for  the  use  of  it.  Tliere  is  no  fault  to  be  found 
with  this  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  loaning 
class,  for  it  is  natural  and  riglit ;  but  it  must  not 
be  permitted  to  create  artificially,  for  it  own  satis- 
faction, modes  of  investment  or  consumption  of 
wealth  which  are  opposed  to  the  interests  of  pro- 
ductive labor,  and  which  lay  lasting  burdens  upon 
it.  That,  however,  is  just  the  effect  that  it  has 
been  producing  for  the  last  hundred  years  and 
more.  The  demand  for  opportunities  to  make  safe 
loans  of  unemployed  wealth,  or  of  money,  as  we 
say,  has  forced  the  fearful  growth,  in  later  times, 
of  national  and  municipal  debts.  An  incorporated 
community,  stably  organized,  is  the  most  trust- 
worthy of  all  debtors.  Its  pecuniary  obligations 
are  a  joint  mortgage  upon  the  property  of  all  its 
members.  IS^o  individual  borrower  can  oft'er  se- 
curities quite  equal  to  that.  Hence  pubhc  loans, 
in  every  country  of  a  creditable  character,  have 
been  sought  for  with  ravenous  avidity.  A  fatal 
facility  in  debt-making,  on  the  part  of  all  the  cor- 
porate divisions  of  government,  from  that  of  the 
State  at  large  down  to  that  of  the  smallest  village 
community,  has  been  the  consequence,  and  the 
loaning  class  has  exerted  a  strong  pressure  of  in- 
visible and  hardly  conscious  influence  in  favor  of 


FIFTH  E  VEXING. 


155 


tlie  innki]i<]j  of  debts.  Tims  |)ul)lic  duUts,  l)otli 
iiutional  and  iiiiini('i|)a],  luive  swollen,  within  the 
last  century,  until  iheir  aggregate  ningnitude  is 
appalling  lo  the  political  economist.  They  rtjpre- 
sent  not  oidyan  outrageous  mortgage  u])on  future 
])r()duction,  but  a  more  outrageous  waste,  in  the 
consumption  of  wealth  which  the  owners  would 
not  themselves  consume,  and  which  might  have 
been  added  to  the  productive  ca])ital  of  the  world. 
Three-(piarters,  at  least,  of  all  the  borrowed  wealth 
which  governments  have  consumed  and  which  the 
people  are  under  bonds  to  account  for,  has  simply 
undergone  destruction  in  their  hands,  by  methods 
of  sheer  wastefulness  that  are  more  wanton  than 
any  other.  It  has  been  devoured  by  armies,  or 
has  vanished  in  the  smoke  of  battle;  or  it  has  been 
S(piandered  by  a  thousand  modes  in  extravagant 
and  reckless  administration.  For  some  little  part 
of  the  vast  total  of  public  debt  there  are  public 
improvements  of  permanent  usefulness  to  show — 
such  as  ediiices  and  roads  and  canals ;  but  I  doubt 
if  all  these  put  together  in  the  world  will  stand 
for  one-fourth  of  the  whole.  The  stupendous  re- 
mainder represents,  for  the  greater  part,  a  wicked 
obliteration  of  wealth  in  one  generation  at  the  cost 
of  posterity. 

"  Now,  I  do  not  maintain  that  armies  can  yet 
be  dispensed  with  altogether  in  the  world,  nor  that 
war  can  be  always  averted  ;  but  1  do  sav  that  the 


156 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


I 


• 


fatal  facility  in  borrowing  wliicli  governments  have 
ac(|uire(l,  by  reason  of  the  productive  progress  of 
the  world,  and  throngli  the  fatal  habit  of  indiU'er- 
ence  to  debt  which  is  fostered  by  the  pressure  of 
the  increasing  demand  for  public  loans  as  an  invest- 
ment of  idle  wealth,  are  at  the  bottom  of  the  causes 
which  pi'oduce  in  modern  times  oppressive  mili- 
tary establishments  and  ambitious  wars.  At  the 
same  time,  they  are  the  underlying  causes  of  cor- 
ruption, extravagance,  and  recklessness  in  public 
expenditure,  wherever  found,  in  State  or  municipal 
government.  It  is  so  easy  to  make  up  a  deficiency 
in  revenue  by  an  issue  of  bonds,  for  which  eager 
lenders  are  always  waiting,  and  public  oj)init)n  is 
easily  reconciled  to  small  accretions  of  a  debt 
that  has  outgrown  the  apprehension  of  its  h'g- 
nres.  The  process  is  an  utterly  ruinous  one,  and 
it  must  be  arrested,  in  the  interest  of  labor,  from 
whose  nse  all  this  wealth,  which  might  be  work- 
ing capital,  is  abstracted,  on  the  one  hand,  to  be 
added,  on  the  other,  to  the  burden  of  a  lasting 
mortgage  on  the  products  of  labor.  It  must  be 
arrested,  peremptorily  and  absolutely.  The  work- 
ing-class and  the  class  of  active  capitalists  must 
combine  their  strength  of  numbers,  in  political 
action,  to  put  a  stop  to  it,  by  constitutionally  de- 
priving all  governments  of  the  power  to  contract 
debt,  except  in  the  temporary  -way  that  I  have  in- 
dicated.    Some  carefully -limited  borrowing  power 


FIFTU  EVENIXG,  157 

of  that  kind  is  uiulouhtcdly  iieccssary,  to  provide 
for  emergencies  which  cannot  be  forecalcu luted, 
and  it  wonkl  snllice  for  all  contingencies  tliat  are 
conceivable.  It  wonld  have  snlHced  amply  in  our 
own  case,  when  wo  were  driven  to  war  for  the 
preservation  of  the  Union — and  no  ])e()[)le  were 
ever  phiced  in  a  situation  of  i:;reater  stress.  It 
Bcemed  to  us  at  the  time  that  we  could  not  bear 
the  cost  of  so  great  a  struggle  in  immediate  taxa- 
tion  ;  but  we  can  casilv  see  now  that  it  would  have 
been  better  for  us  if  we  had  done  so.  It  wouhl 
have  been  better  if  we  had  been  left  with  no  other 
alternative.  The  Union  was  not  worth  saving  to 
us  if  we  couhl  have  shrunk  from  the  payment  of 
the  cost  then  and  there.  As  it  was,  by  borrowing, 
we  imposed  more  than  a  double  cost  upon  our- 
selves and  our  children  and  our  children's  children. 
For  every  actual  dollar's  worth  of  Avealth  and  Lil)or 
that  we  consumed  in  the  prosecution  of  the  war, 
we  laid  a  mortgage  for  more  than  two  doll""s  on 
the  future  production  of  the  country,  by  reason  of 
the  inflation  of  prices  v/hich  resulted  from  the 
forced  loan  of  the  legal-tender  issue." 

"  Let  me  understand,"  said  I,  "  exactly  how 
you  would  propose  to  limit  the  borrowing  power 
of  government." 

"I  should  not  limit  the  sum  which  a  govern- 
ment may  borrow  in  situations  of  temporary  emer- 
gency, or  for  extraordinary  purposes  of  importance. 


158 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOIi. 


\. 


beoause  there  is  no  ground  of  calculation  to  go 
uj)on  in  tixiug  wuch  a  limit ;  but  I  hIiouIcI  strictly 
juid  sovcM'C'ly  narrow  down  the  conditions  under 
which  all  public  borrowing  is  to  be  done.  1  should 
make  it  a  matter  of  constitutional  law,  apj)lying  to 
all  the  subdivisions  of  government,  that  every  act 

'  whi'*h  authorizes  a  loan  shall  contain  in  itself  the 
provisions  of  extra  taxation  for  paving  the  prin- 
cipal of  the  loan  within  three  or  live  years  at  the 
most,  and  that  such  provisions  of  taxation  shall  be 
subject  to  no  repeal,  nor  to  any  modification  which 
iuipairs  the  revenue  from  them,  after  the  loan  shall 
have  been  consummated.  The  effect  would  be  to 
make  all  ])ublic  expenditure,  whether  ordinary  or 
extraordinary,  immediately  dependent  upon  the 
temper  and  dis[)osition  of  the  tax-paying  people, 
as  it  ought  to  be.  If  the  object  of  ])roposed  ex- 
penditure be  not  urgent  and  important  enough  to 
command  their  assent  to  immediate  additional 
taxes,  it  is  proper  that  such  expenditure  should  be 
barred.  Aduunistrators  and  legislators  would  be 
exposed  to  a  more  rigorous  criticism,  and  held  to  a 
stricter  account  of  reasons  for  every  appropriation 
which  exceeds  the  ordinary  revenues  of  govern- 
ment. Extravagance  would  be  checked,  and  reck- 
lessness in  political  schemes  of  personal  ambition 
as  well,  while  the  needful  energies  of  government 
would  suffer  no  detriment,  I  am  sure. 

\/       "  You  can  see  what  consequences  of  advantage 


i 


FIFTH  E  VENING, 


15U 


to  labor  would  accrue.  Tlio  loanable  wealth, 
which  now  tiuds  iuvcHtiiieut  iu  public  loans,  to 
the  extent  of  many  thousands  of  millions  'A  dol- 
lars, would  be  driven  to  take  the  risks,  more  or 
less,  of  i)i*oductive  em[)lovment,  and  be  added  per- 
force to  the  working  capital  of  the  world.  The 
men  who  either  cannot  or  will  not  undertake  for 
themselves  the  ])roductive  employment  of  such 
funds  as  they  desire  income  from,  would  be  im- 
pelled to  trust  more  of  them  than  tliev  now  do  to 
the  use  and  uianagement  of  those  who  will,  in- 
dustrial enterprise  would  be  ])owerfully  reenforced, 
and  a  vast  improvement  made  in  the  condition.:  of 
labor  at  once.'" 

"  Well,  judge,"  said  I,  "  I  will  join  your  party. 
I  can  heartily  subscribe  to  the  one  resolution  of 
its  platform.  Let  us  begin  with  a  party  of  two, 
and  there  is  no  telling  what  will  come  of  it. 

'"  As  for  the  rest  of  the  doctrines  you  have  ex- 
pounded to  us,  they  are  like  the  seeds  of  this  apple 
that  I  have  bitten,  in  which  some  far-otf  possible 
fruitage  may  be  dimly  discerned  by  those  who 
have  the  vision  of  faith  which  you  possess.  They 
are  very  grand  doctrines  of  justice  ;  very  inspir- 
ing doctrines  of  hopefulness;  very  noble  in  the 
conception  of  duty  between  man  and  man  which 
tliey  body  forth,  and  very  lofty  in  the  ideal  of  hu- 
man society  which  they  set  up.  But  there  is  only 
the  potential  seed  of  truth  in  them,  as  you  admit 


V' 


■J 


■p  ■ 


i 


IGO 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


yourself.  Like  tlie  seed  of  this  apple,  they  must 
be  planted,  and  must  wait  in  obscure  darkness  for 
the  dull  earth  to  feel  theni  and  to  be  felt  by  them  ; 
and  they  must  be  dissolved  by  its  storms  and 
heated  by  its  fermentations,  before  any  germ  of 
vi.tal  force  can  nuxke  its  appearance  in  them. 
Will  you  plant  them  ?  AVill  you  put  what  you 
have  said  bere  into  written  words,  which  may  be 
dropped  along  the  highways  and  get  their  chance, 
at  least,  of  gernunation  in  the  thoughts  and  acts 
of  other  men  I  " 

He  shook  his  head.  "  I  cannot,"  he  said.  "I 
found  long  ago  that  writing  is  not  my  province  of 
woi'k  in  the  world.  I  have  not  the  couraii'e  nor 
the  ambition  f(jr  such  a  task." 

"  Then  I  shall  take  the  duty  upon  myself.  I 
have  been  keeping  a  record  of  our  talks,  which  is 
not  very  far  from  exact.  If  you  do  not  j)roliibit 
me,  I  shall  give  it  to  print,  because  I  think  there 
are  hints  of  teaching  in  it  which  ought  to  have 
some  wider  audience  than  this." 

He  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  smiled,  as 
he  rose  to  depart,  and  the  smile,  wdiich  had  no  pro- 
test in  it,  is  my  warrant  for  the  publication  of  our 
talks. 

"  Just  one  last  question,"  I  added,  as  he  stood 
at  the  door. 

"  If  there  be  a  possible  state  of  easy  conditions 
in  life  for  all  working-men  and  working-women, 


r 


FIFTH  EVEXIXG. 


IGi 


how  long  can  it  last  before  tlie  world  becomes  pop- 
ulated ill  excess  of  tlic  sustaining  capabilities  of 
its  soil  ? " 

"  Ah  !  that,''  said  tlie  judge,  "  is  a  qnestion  that 
we  must  leave  with  God. ,  Malthus  has  not  troubled 
me  at  all,  although  I  do  not  forget  him.  The 
laws  of  increase  in  population  which  he  deduced 
are  beyond  dispute,  but  it  is  horrible  to  construe 
them  as  oracles  of  doom  against  any  wretched  class 
of  human  creatures.  I  find,  for  my  own  part,  no 
argument  of  hopelessness  in  them.  It  is  certain 
that  the  checks  upon  population  whicli  are  found 
in  prudent  restraints  of  marriage,  act,  in  the  sev- 
eral classes  of  society,  with  a  strength  somewhat 
proportioned  to  the  culture  and  experience  of  the 
chiss.  It  is  in  the  state  of  poverty,  not  of  wealth, 
that  the  fecundity  of  the  race  increases.  It  is 
among  the  poor  that  marriage  is  earliest  and  most 
improvident ;  it  is  among  the  poor  that  marriage 
is  the  most  fruitful.  On  the  other  hand,  perhaps, 
it  is  in  the  ranks  of  the  pinched  and  degraded  poor 
that  death  works  busiest  to  cut  the  increase  down  ; 
but  shall  we  dare  to  found  cold  calculations  on  that  ? 
I  dare  not,  for  one. 

"  As  for  the  final  end  to  which  your  question 
looks — it  is  beyond  our  ken.  AVe  must  trust  it 
where  we  trust  all  that  belongs  to  the  final  destiny 
of  the  human  race.  It  lies  far  olf  as  yet — much 
farther  tlian  it  seemed  to  do  when  Malthus  wrote. 


n/ 


■i! 


163 


TALKS  ABOUT  LABOR. 


v/ 


AYe  are  finding  out  ways  to  produce  more  and 
more.  AVe  are  producing  with  less  dependence  on 
the  brutes  which  compete  with  man  for  subsist- 
ence from  the  earth.  We  may  learn  by  and  by 
to  consume  with  less  waste.  The  old  local  bounda- 
ries of  subsistence  are  fast  breaking  down.  Men 
are  held  no  longer,  as  they  were,  to  the  spot  of 
earth  on  mIucIi  they  were  boi'n.  America  has 
been  opened  for  the  discharge  of  population  from 
Enro])e,  and  Africa  will  open  wide  doors  in  the 
near  future.  It  will  be  long  before  the  world  is 
full  of  people  and  its  soil  can  feed  no  more.  Ere 
that  time  comes,  man  may  possibly  have  learned 
to  make  food  from  the  inor<::anic  elements  for  him- 
self.  AVho  knows?  It  will  be  as  God  hus  willed. 
Let  us  leave  the  matter  with  him." 


\l 


THE   END. 


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United  States,  has  been  secured,  and  negotiations  are  pending  for  contributions  from 
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The  International  ScinNTiFic  Series  is  entirely  an  American  project,  and  was 
originated  and  organized  by  Dr.  E.  L.  Voumans,  who  has  spent  much  time  iri  Europe, 
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f-     Prof.  T.   H.  HUXLEY,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S.     Bodily  Motion  and  Consciousness. 

Dr.  W.   B.  CARPENTER,   LL.  D.,   F.  R.  S.      The  Physical  Geograpliy  of  t lie  Sea. 

Prof.  WILLIAM  ODLING,  F.  R.  S.  The  Old  Chemistry  zicived  from  tJie  h\-w 
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W.  LAUDER  LINDSAY,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  E.     Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals. 
Sir  JOHN  LUBBOCK,  ^art.,  F.  R.  S.     On  Ants  and  Bees. 

Prof.  W.  T.  THISELTON  DYER,  B.  A.,  B.  Sc.  Form  and  Ilahit  in  Floivering 
Plants. 

Mr.  J.  N.  LOCKYER,  F.  R.  R.     S/>ectrum  Analysis. 

Prof.  MICHAEL  FOSTER,  M.  D.     Protoplasm  and  the  Cell  Theory. 

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Prof.  A.  C.  RAMSAY,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  Farth  Scnl/^fnre :  Hills,  l\,llrys,  Mo,n,. 
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^    Prof.  RUDOLPH  VIRCHOW  (Borlln  University).     Morhid  Physiological  Action. 
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Prof   BERTHELOT.      Chemical  Synthesis. 

Prof  C.  A.  VOUNG,  Ph.  D.  (of  Dartmouth  College).     The  Sun. 

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Prof  S.  W.  JOHNSON,  M.  A.     On  the  Nutrition  of  Plants. 

Prof  AUSTIN  FLINT,  Jr.,  M.  D.     The  Nervous  System,  and  its  Relation  to  the 
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Prof  FERDINAND  COIIN  .Brcslau  University).     Thallophytes  {Alga,  Lichens, 
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Prof  LEUCKART  (University  of  Lcipsic).     Outlines  of  Animal  Organization. 

Prof  LIEBREICH  (University  of  Berlin).      Outlines  of  Toxicology. 

Prof  KUNDT  (University  of  Strasburg).     On  Sound. 

Prof  REES  (University  of  Erlangen).     On  Parasitic  Plants. 

•>C  Prof  STEINTHAL  (University  of  Berlin).     Outlines  of  the  Science  of  Language. 

P.   BERT  (Professor  of  Physiology,  Paris).     I-lums  of  Life  and   other  Cosmical 
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Political  Economy  at  Lille).     The  Primitive  Elements  oj  Political  Constitutions. 
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Prof  CORFIELD,  M.  A.,  M.  D.  (O.xon.).     Air  in  its  Relation  to  Health. 
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I)ens  of  the  leadinir  scientific  men  of  dilft'rent  countriv's.  Accounts  of  important  scieii- 
tilic,  discoveries,  the  application  of  science  to  the  practical  arts,  and  tiie  latest  views  juit 
forth  concerning,'  natural  phenomena,  have  been  {,'iven  hy  sa rants  of  the  hisjhest  au- 
tliority.  Prominent  attention  has  been  also  devoted  to  those  various  sciences  which 
help  to  a  better  understandint^  of  tlie  nature  of  man,  to  the  bearings  of  science  upon 
tlie  questions  of  society  and  f,'overnment,  to  scientific  education,  and  to  the  coullicts 
which  spring  from  the  pro)?ressive  nature  of  scientific  knowledge. 

Tni-;  PoiMi.Au  Scif.ntk  Monthly  has  loii'^'  since  ceased  to  be  an  experiment.  Tt 
has  passed  into  a  circulation  far  beyond  die  most  sanfruine  hopes  at  first  entertained, 
and  the  cordial  and  intelligent  ajjproval  which  it  has  everywhere  met,  shows  that  its 
close  and  instructive  discussions  have  been  well  appreciated  by  the  reading  portion  of 
the  American  people.  It  has  not  bei'n  its  policy  to  make  boastful  promises  of  gnat 
tilings  to  be  done  in  the  future,  but  rather  to  apjieal  to  what  it  has  already  accom- 
jilished  as  giving  it  a  claim  ui)on  pojiular  patronage.  Rut  no  i)ains  will  be  spai'ed  to 
improve  it  and  make  it  still  more  worthy  of  liberal  support,  and  still  more  a  necessity 
to  the  cultivated  classes  of  the  country. 


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